


Unforgivable Sinner

by Elin Eriksen (Vaarin)



Category: Pride and Prejudice (1995), Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eloping, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 65,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaarin/pseuds/Elin%20Eriksen
Summary: She loathed the mere sight of him, he did not know she existed until she committed an unforgivable sin...
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Georgiana Darcy/George Wickham, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 36
Kudos: 116





	1. Obligations

**Author's Note:**

> Note: My first bad Elizabeth story with an OOC Georgiana. 18 chapters, 65.6k

Unforgivable Sinner,   
Pride and Prejudice retold

She loathed the mere sight of him, he did not know she existed until she committed an unforgivable sin...

.  
Chapter index:

Chapter 1 Obligation.   
Chapter 2 Shallow.   
Chapter 3 The Raven's Cliff.   
Chapter 4 New acquaintance   
Chapter 5 Fool's Errand   
Chapter 6 Disruption of Peace.   
Chapter 7 The Scottish Border.   
Chapter 8 The Long Journey Home   
Chapter 9 Residual Brokenness.   
Chapter 10 The Comfort of Home   
Chapter 11 Unexpected Visitors   
Chapter 12 An Unpleasant Guest   
Chapter 13 A Ball to Remember.   
Chapter 14 Reconciliation.   
Chapter 15 To Strain at Gnats and Swallow Camels   
Chapter 16 Matters of the Heart.   
Chapter 17 Forgiven   
Chapter 18 Loves Beauty. 

Chapter 1 Obligation

“Jane!”

“Jane, I need you to attend me immediately. Mrs Hill has been searching all over the house for you.”

“I beg your pardon, mama. Lizzy and I were weeding in the rose garden.”

“Come inside,” Mrs Bennet urged yet remained on the front steps of Longbourn house. “I have great news for you, Jane. Mr Bennet has received a letter from Mr Gardiner. Mrs Gardiner has been unwell for a while and wants you to come to London and aid her recovery. She had whooping cough this spring and her convalescence is dragging out. Mr Gardiner is very busy with his warehouses and cannot afford to spend much time at home with his wife.”

Elizabeth wondered why her mother had bothered calling Jane inside when she had related the news on the front step, even Mrs Gardiner's illness.

“Is not whooping cough a childhood disease?”

“It is regarded as such but you can catch it as an adult. It is usually much more severe when you are grown. I guess she contracted it from one of her little ones. Thank heavens, my daughters are all grown up.”

Elizabeth thought the last statement was debatable but voiced nothing out loud. Instead, she dragged her mother inside before she revealed more family matters before anyone who happened to pass by. Her mother's shrill voice did carry a long way...

Jane waited until she was inside before she answered her mother's question.

“Oh, it is Lizzy's turn to go. I was there at the beginning of the new year. I cannot possibly usurp my sister's turn?”

“I guess Lizzy would do as well. Perhaps it is better. I am not sure if I can spare you, Jane. Now that I come to think of it. Yes, I will tell Mr Bennet to write to Mr Gardiner.”

“You better write to him yourself if you do not want my coming instead of Jane to be a complete surprise on arrival.”

“I guess you are right, Lizzy. Mr Bennet is not fond of writing letters. I shall write to Madeline myself, at this very moment. Be a dear and fetch me my writing supplies, Lizzy. The ink well in the parlour is empty again.”

Elizabeth nodded and ran up the stairs to do her mother’s bidding.

“No running inside the house, Lizzy. You must remember to act like a lady!” Mrs Bennet bellowed up the stairs, making her daughter roll her eyes before she continued up the treads at a slightly slower pace.

“What is all the ruckus about?”

Mr Bennet stuck his head out of the door of his study as Lizzy was skipping down the stairs.

“Mama has decided that I should go to visit my aunt and uncle instead of Jane. She needed more ink...”

“Can you fetch it quietly? I am trying to read my book.”

“Certainly, Papa.” Elizabeth walked quietly passed him and entered the parlour creating a perfect portrait of an exaggerated well-behaved lady. 

“That is it, my Lizzy.” Her father chuckled as he closed the door to his study.

XxX

Her dear aunt and uncle did not mind at all that it was Elizabeth and not Jane who turned up at their doorstep.   
Both were exceedingly grateful for her company.

It was early June and the birds were busy feeding their young in a nearby park. Mrs Gardiner, however, was not able to enjoy neither the birds nor the early flowers. Her infection had settled in the lungs. She was still suffering from shortness of breath and bouts of coughing, weeks after the fever had left. She despaired that illness had settled for good and that she would not improve. Mr Gardiner hoped that a visit from their niece at least would rally her spirits. Her children were well taken care of by their nurse and governess but Mrs Gardiner was disheartened and bored. He wished that their niece would bring her some much-needed joy and entertainment. If nothing else, she could read and play the pianoforte half decent. 

His guilty conscience would not mind either. He was in the middle of some vital negotiations with a promising new investor. He could afford to lose him but the prospect of expanding his business to new areas was tempting and highly profitable. With this new adventure, he was looking at early retirement in a country estate.  
He had wanted to enter the palm oil import. With the wars making the trade with the continent difficult and America a risky business. He had set his eyes on Africa and bought ships at a bargain price. His coffers were not exactly empty after his latest investment but a healthy dose of fresh capital would set him up nicely without having to borrow at a high interest from one of the banks.  
He had done his numbers, calculating the cost of the merchandise, shipping, depreciation, insurance, port dues, wages, trade goods, ceremonial breakfasts and dashes. It was all adding up to significant if not downright enormous profits.  
Sheer luck had put him beside Charles Livingstone, the British Council for the Bight of Biafra, at a dinner party he attended. Livingstone had spoken of the West African palm oil trade and the money to be made. A seed had been sown in his mind and was now about to come to fruition. Mr Gardiner was in his ace. The gentlemen he negotiated with were young but by no means unworthy opponents.   
He and his Mrs had been invited to a dinner party to seal the deal. With Elizabeth here, he could leave Madeline with her when he retired with the gentlemen to the study to sign the papers. Madeline wanted to go, despite not being entirely well. Mr Gardiner could deny his wife nothing she asked for...

~***~

Mr Gardiner could detect a small improvement in his wife's health on the first night Elizabeth was there.  
She smiled more, probably at the expense of his coffers but he did not mind the small outlay.  
Madeline had decided to treat Elizabeth with a new gown before their dinner engagement, a week hence. She always enjoyed being of service to others.   
The dinner would proceed with cards and dancing. Madeline could not dance herself, she was too short of breath and prone to coughing but the mere thought of Elizabeth dancing was enough to bolster her spirits. The shopping was just a bonus.  
As Mrs Gardiner said to herself: “If I am no longer young and vicious myself, I may relive it through my nieces.”

They requested the carriage for the next day. Mr Gardiner happily granted their inquiry with some admonishment to not overtax his wife.  
Madeline laughed and promise she could sit in a carriage and sit and watch at the modiste. The coughing fit that followed her laughter made Elizabeth solemnly promise to stay vigilant.

~***~

Mrs Gardiner had a specific modiste in mind when they set out the next day. Madame Celeste was a famous Bond Street modiste who could boast of several titled ladies among her clientele. She came highly recommended.   
Mrs Gardiner thought it essential to look the part as well as behave the part when mingling with the upper éclat of London society. She was cognizant of her tradesman mark and had no intention of feeding the belief that they were in any way inferior in breeding nor composure.

Elizabeth was a fine young lady but she needed a little polishing. The handy down gowns from Jane had been altered but they were by no means a perfect fit nor of the latest fashion. Elizabeth did not mind, she was not obsessed with fashion like some of her younger sisters. Serviceable and comfortable was her only requirements, it would not do in this company.   
The challenge was to make Elizabeth accept the fact that she needed some additions to her wardrobe and convince her to let her aunt purchase said items. Elizabeth had a frugal mind that was admirable but not strictly necessary.  
Mrs Gardiner, however, had an advantage that gave her the upper hand. Elizabeth’s overlooked birthday in March and her recent illness. Any excitement or exertion made her cough, even arguing with her niece to let her buy her some new attire. 

Elizabeth relented, not a small feature when Elizabeth Bennet was concerned. In addition to tender-hearted, she was also headstrong and fiercely loyal to those she cared about, how little they may deserve it...

By design, they had ample time to peruse the fabrics on display before their appointment. After utilizing said time, Elizabeth had a fairly good idea of what she wanted and waited patiently for the modiste call her name.  
A lady, the wife of an earl no less, came into the shop with her young niece. The girl was about to travel to the seaside but had grown so much since spring that several of her new gowns needed alterations. Mrs Gardiner graciously offered to wait on her appointment.   
The Countess thanked her by making a fuss over not being served promptly despite not having made an appointment.  
Mrs Gardiner knew she had been very fortunate to receive an appointment with the sought after modiste who could be fastidious in her choice of clientele.   
The advantage of ordering this late in the season was that most of the high society ladies had long since ordered and collected their gowns. The modiste was mostly engaged in small alterations and had time to spare for a woman who wanted to order a new wardrobe for her niece, regardless of standing in society. 

Madame Celeste showed her gratefulness by giving Elizabeth her explicit attention as soon as the illustrious party had left.   
Elizabeth did not mind the wait. She might have been miffed had not the girl had the decency to show her mortification when the modiste offered her privileges at Elizabeth's expense. The Lady aunt took it for granted but the nieces reddened cheeks and her newfound fascination with the floor spoke very well of her sensibilities. Elizabeth felt it necessary to be generous to end the girl’s obvious embarrassment. Having lived with her mother for twenty odd year's, embarrassing relations was not foreign to Elizabeth. She always felt exceedingly grateful to her neighbours who let certain insults and preposterous exclamations float past them without any notice.

It was Elizabeth who gained the most in the end. Two new day gowns, an evening gown, a ball gown, a new cloak, a pelisse, stays, stockings and slippers were added to her wardrobe. Aunt Madeline even bought her a new fan to match her white ball gown.

Having spent an entire morning at Madame Celeste, Madeline Gardiner was worn out but could manage a trip to Gunther's for ice cream. She proclaimed herself revived by the lemon and honey ice before they headed home to Gracechurch Street.  
Still, she opted to rest before dinner which Elizabeth utilised by taking her two eldest cousins to the nearby park. After hours of poking and prodding upon her person, keeping still if she did not want to add red bloodstains to her new white evening and ball gowns. She needed the exercise.  
Elizabeth did not own a white gown, it was not particularly practical but her aunt had insisted that maidens should wear white to accentuate their innocence. To avoid another coughing fit, Elizabeth acquiesced.

She was daydreaming about how her gowns would look like when they were finished. Her silk evening gown should be ready in a week. It was a simple gown with short sleeves, just like Elizabeth preferred but the white silk shimmered with silver which made the fabric look exquisite. It was the compromise to get Elizabeth to agree to a much more elaborate ball gown. A white masterpiece shot with gold and roses embroidered across the skirt. The ball gown would be finished much later with so much embroidery to be done.

The Gardiners residents fell into a pattern of Elizabeth entertaining her aunt in the morning and evenings whilst playing with her young cousins in the afternoon.   
Their dinner engagement was on Tuesday so Monday, they went to Madame Celeste to collect her gowns.  
Elizabeth was particularly pleased with her light greenish-grey pelisse. Her old brown one was a poor fit, Jane had broader shoulders than Elizabeth had. It hung like a sack on her. Her new one fit like a glow had lovely embroidery in the same colour as the fabric and came with a monstrous hat. Elizabeth had politely declined the ostentatious headwear and bought a straw braided bonnet with straw trimmings on the brim and ribbons on the high crown.  
She was set for a night out in high society...


	2. Shallow

Chapter 2 Shallow

Elizabeth felt like royalty when she ascended the carriage in front of Charles Livingstone's London home. She was even more astonished when she entered the home.   
The dining room was adorned with what looked like to be cherry trees in full bloom. How their hostess had managed it, she knew not but the ambience was magical. She felt like she had stepped out of London and into a fairy tale. She expected fairies and elves appearing between the fashionably attired guests. 

Her gratefulness towards her aunt grew by each step she took. Nothing she had ever owned would have been sufficient in this company, her aunt had been correct on that account.

A footman came to collect their outerwear, a shadow of appreciation clouded his countenance for a brief moment. Elizabeth felt elevated. It was only a footman but living in Jane's shadow offered few of those moments when she felt truly beautiful. Oh, she was pretty enough but compared to ethereal Jane, she was positively drab...

With bolstered spirits, Elizabeth floated gracefully towards their host for the evening. The British counsel Charles Livingstone and his wife.

“Be wary, Elizabeth, lest the adoration of that young footman goes to your head.”

Nothing surpassed her aunt, not even a brief look of appreciation.

“You may rest easy on that account, aunt. With Jane for a sister, moments of adoration are few and far between.”

“Perhaps I need to throw in a warning about the green-eyed monster for good measure?” 

“Aunt!” Elizabeth looked appalled, even though she knew in heart her aunt was jesting. “Who could begrudge Jane anything? She is the most sweet-natured, kind-hearted lady I have ever had the pleasure of encounter. It is my mother’s lamentations I could easily forego.”

“Yes, she does not do you justice, Elizabeth. You are beautiful in your own right.”

“Thank you, aunt Madeline. I even feel beautiful tonight but do not be concerned for my arrogance and conceit. It is heady feeling but I shall soon enough be scampering about Longbourn with my gown six inches deep in mud.”

Aunt Madeline chuckled as it was their turn to curtsy to their host and walk the ballroom to greet their associates and friends of which Elizabeth had none. She was vaguely familiar with a couple of her uncles business associates but none she could see were present at the moment.  
She kept close to her aunt and found them a table where her aunt could rest.  
Elizabeth offered to fetch some refreshments. A footman with a tray of champagne passed glasses around. Mr Livingstone must be very well connected to get hold of champagne during a war with the producers.

Elizabeth walked stealthily, juggling the full glasses, back to her aunt. She was mindful of not spilling anything on her new gown. She sat down as some matrons stopped to greet her aunt. Her aunt introduced her niece to secure her some dance partners later in the evening. The matrons eyed her with much more interest once they learnt she was a gentleman's daughter, albeit with connections in trade. Some regarded the fact with the wisdom of both worlds. She had standing through her father and wealth through her uncle.

Dinner was called without her aunt falling into a coughing fit. Elizabeth counted it as a small victory of the evening.

Dinner was a long, dragged out affair with no less than three courses. Elizabeth had her fill at the first, nibbled at the second but absolutely refused to eat more at the third, lest her new gown would burst at the seams. She did not voice it out loud, of course, she pushed the items together, making it look like she had eaten some.  
Her dinner partner was a young clerk with little conversation and a severe case of acne. Elizabeth felt for him but could coax little out of him but one-syllable words. Her uncle sat on her other side but he was engrossed in a conversation with a red-headed young man in his early twenties. Her aunt sat in the middle and was happy with not taking part in the conversation.  
Elizabeth listened but when she heard they were speaking of a West African business adventure she toned out. 

On the opposite side of the table, a mother and her pale daughter were praising the benefits of taking the sea air. Elizabeth secretly wondered how well the daughter had been before she went to Brighton because she certainly was not looking too well at the moment.  
The mother droned on about her daughter being bedridden for much of the winter with whooping cough. Was not that what her aunt had suffered from? Elizabeth paid more attention after that little tidbit of information. She certainly had the same hacking cough that her aunt had but she did not follow up with the high pitched intake of breath which suggested she was on the mend.  
Elizabeth sipped her wine and prayed that the dinner would soon be over. She longed to stretch her legs, preferably in a lively reel...

~***~

Dinner was finally over after more than three hours at the table. The ladies adjourned to the music room to exhibit, an execution Elizabeth was of no mind to perform herself. Her meagre accomplishments on the pianoforte would not do in this exalted company. Surrounded by those who were used to listen to the most proficient musicians, Elizabeth preferred to listen.  
There were plenty of other young girls who wished to exhibit.

Elizabeth sat close to the door with her aunt who nudged her when her uncle passed with a couple of young gentlemen of great stature and obvious wealth, judging by how well their tailored clothes fit them. The youngest was the gentleman her uncle had conversed with during dinner. The other was a taller, dark-haired gentleman, she had not noticed at the table. He must have arrived late or been seated on the same side as herself.   
Trailing behind was a portly man in his late thirties and her uncle.   
Mr Gardiner had mentioned the importance of this night and that he would be occupied with negotiations for a part of the evening. It was one of the many reasons he had specifically wanted Elizabeth to join them. To keep her aunt with company and make sure of her comfort while he was busy elsewhere.

It was no hardship to keep her aunt with drink and avert the conversation to herself when her aunt cleared her throat. 

An hour later the gentlemen joined the ladies and all moved to the ballroom.   
Elizabeth was introduced to eligible young sons of the matrons she had previously encountered at her aunt's table. Her wish for a lively reel was granted and she danced four sets in a row before she begged off to sit with her aunt.  
She felt guilty for neglecting her aunt but the musicians were divine. One did not know what one was missing until you heard someone truly proficient. The Meryton assemblies would never be the same again...

“I beg you pardon me, aunt, but it is difficult to reject these young gentlemen when they engage you for a set.”

“Oh, poppycock, Elizabeth. I take immense pleasure in watching you dance when I cannot partake in the merriment myself.   
I predict quite a few morning calls of poetically bent young gentlemen on the morrow.”

Elizabeth chuckled, “yes, we all know how well that went for Jane. Please, do not wish for badly written poetry on my account. I would much rather have a bouquet of wildflowers than sit through the recital of a cringe-worthy poem.”

The talkative mother who had sat across from Elizabeth during dinner came panting to their table.  
Her aunt greeted her cordially.

“Mrs Bates...”

“Oh dear, Mrs Gardiner! I just heard you had suffered from whooping cough this winter. As did my daughter. It was absolutely horrendous, she coughed herself out of breath and her stomach content. The wheezing and whooping drove me to distraction, not to forget the coughing. I was certain we were going to lose her but, thankfully, she rallied through. She is very weak still but we took her to Brighton and I must tell you... The sea air did wonders for her, it was practically a miracle of divine intervention. You simply must go there. Take your husband and children for your health's recovery. Oh, and your niece as well. I am sure she would not mind a stroll at the seaside. She looks like a healthy sort of a girl.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply to the compliment but she did not manage to get a word out before Mrs Bates had found another topic she simply must debate with her aunt. If one considered a one-sided conversation a debate, that is. The lady seemed perfectly able to speak whilst breathing both in and out, leaving little room for her friends to add to the stories she told. 

Elizabeth soon found her mind drifting towards other parts of the room. The set was nearing completion but no young men were heading towards her table at the moment. She would dearly like to dance the set that remained.  
Instead, her uncle came strolling towards them, he must have finished his negotiations as he bowed to the other three gentlemen and left them for his wife.

The gentlemen looked like they were to follow her uncle for some introductions when they stopped dead in their tracks. The youngest cast a concerned look at Mrs Bates and turned to his taller companion.

“I have an obligation towards my sister for this last set but you should engage the lovely brunette sitting down at Mr Gardiner's table for the last two dances.”

Elizabeth fought to contain a smirk when the tall, dark gentleman turned towards her. Her wish seemed to be granted, after all.  
It would by no means be any hardship dancing with the gentleman, he was probably the most handsome man she had ever beheld. Deep, sea-blue eyes regarded her intently, set over a noble nose and a chiselled chin. A lock of stray hair fell over his eyebrow, she would not mind brushing it away...  
Elizabeth boldly raised her eyes from the dimple in his chin to meet his gaze. To her astonishment, he quickly turned away and addressed his friend. 

“Do not wish upon me such unmitigated punishment, you know I do not dance unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. She is tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no mood to give consequence to young ladies that are slighted by other men. To stand up with her would be insufferable!”

“Upon my word, Darcy. How can you be in a foul mood when we have just landed the best deal of our lives?”

“Not so loud, Bingley. I would like to keep the matter private. By the by, I did not claim to be in a foul mood. I simply stated that I was not in the mood to...”

“Yes, yes I heard you and so did the young lady in question, I fear. Please, do not repeat it. I might like to do business with Mr Gardiner at another time.”

“What does my inclination towards dancing have to with Mr Gardiner?”

“I suspect the lady in question is Mr Gardiner's beloved niece...”

Elizabeth could feel Mr Darcy's turn around and take a second look at her but she had her back at the offending gentleman who had just ruined her very pleasant evening.   
Fortunately, her rescue from a very awkward moment came by the form of a distinguished-looking officer, a decade or two older than herself.  
Elizabeth did not mind as the officer was a dear friend of her uncle. They had met in the far east when her uncle worked for the East India Company. Their reunion was a merry one but the Colonel soon asked for an introduction to his niece and begged her to humour an old gentleman and grant him the last set.  
Elizabeth laughed and promised it was not an act of charity as he led her to the floor.   
Mr Darcy was soon forgotten. She doubted she would ever see him again as her uncle did not conduct his business from home. It was very clear from the little she had seen of him that they frequented very different circles of society. Good riddance for that.

Colonel Brandon was an accomplished dancer and an excellent conversationalist. He introduced her to his wife after the set had ended. It was obvious why she had sat out the last set as the lady in question was heavily pregnant and much younger than Elizabeth would have thought. She was perhaps no older than herself, if not younger.

When she returned to the table, the gentlemen had left and her aunt was tired. They bade their host goodnight and ordered their carriage to return home but Elizabeth was not tired when she arrived at her chamber in Gracechurch Street.

Deep in thought, she sat down in the window seat, gazing at the silver threads of the moon. A shooting star passed before her eyes. She immediately wished for what she might believe an adequately humbling experience for Mr Darcy. She should not but he should not have disparaged her looks. It hurt much deeper when expressed by a handsome young gentleman than all her mother’s thoughtless remarks put together.   
It added to the insult that upon her first glimpse of him, she had thought him exceedingly handsome.  
It was the first time she had felt any attraction towards a man. It had been a heady feeling until reality came crashing down upon her.  
He could have simply stated that he had no inclination to dance, he had not needed to make any remarks upon her person. Totally unnecessary...  
She felt irked rather than hurt, all of a sudden. It was good she could rally her somewhat volatile temper on occasions when needed. He was not worth thinking about and not worth the tears that were trailing down her cheeks. Elizabeth never cried, it was unheard of. She preferred to laugh away her sorrow and sadness.   
She took a fortifying breath and decided she would stop thinking about it. Pushed the whole experience down to the furthest recesses of her mind and crawled under the covers...


	3. The Raven's Cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I promise there will be a HEA between Darcy and Elizabeth! That is an unnegotiable trait to all my stories. Those who want Elizabeth to cheat on Darcy with Wickham, contract syphilis and give it to Darcy, will be disappointed. This is not that kind of story. (Our dear couple dying in madness at the end would make an impossible HEA which is why I will never write that kind of a story.)  
> But there will be a payback for the insult which will be grievous indeed, patients dear readers ;) I like the challenge of reconciling what might seem like a lost cause...

Chapter 3 The Raven's Cliff

Despite the improvement in Mrs Gardiner’s disposition, her health left much to be desired.  
She still suffered weakness in her body, shortness of breath and coughing fits at the slightest provocation.  
Mr Gardiner despaired that his wife had been permanently injured by contracting whooping cough during adulthood. The children had been ill for three weeks, Mrs Gardiner had been seriously ill for nine gruelling weeks.  
As if the relentless coughing had not been enough, she had suffered a sore throat. The only nourishment she took for nigh on three weeks was hot water. To top it off her nose had been stuffed. Breathing through her mouth made her cough which had worsened her sore throat. It had been a never ending cycle of misery.  
When she admitted that while the grippe had made her believe she was dying, the whog cough had nigh on made her wish for it.   
He comforted himself that she was much better now than the weeks she had been bedridden but he wanted her well. She was his one true love, it was heartbreaking to watch her suffer...

XxX

Supper was a quiet affair, the night after their dinner engagement. Everyone was tired after a few callers had come to see his niece. She, on the other hand, did not seem impressed by any of them according to his wife's rendition of the events.  
Elizabeth was made of stern stuff, her heart was not easily touched but he suspected she would fall hard and lifelong when she found the one she was looking for. He wished he could help but it was better to let nature take its course in these matters. 

“What do you think about Mrs Bates' praise of the sea air for curing her daughter’s whooping cough?”

His ears perked up, he had not heard Mrs Bates speak of it. It must have been broached while he was with Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst.

“It is difficult to say with Mrs Bates, she certainly does like to talk a lot but she is not the only one I have heard speaking of the benefits of the sea air. Even our new Prince Regent is said to visit the area. After the new proprietors Messrs Barling, Foat and Wells took over, the old sheds have been replaced with new luxurious bathing houses. There are plenty of sea bathing opportunities, even for you ladies. They have more than twenty bathing machines...”

“It sounds as if you have been there yourself uncle?”

“I have, some of my ships are stationed there. They have a great and modern harbour.”

“In Brighton?”

“No, I thought you were speaking of Ramsgate. Beautiful white cliffs, clear blue waters and a little less busy, compared to Brighton. The season does not begin until August. If we left in July, we will have the entire town to ourselves, apart from the officers.” Mr Gardiner winked at Elizabeth. “It is the chief embarkation of British troops to the continent. Dashing Navel officers, handsome Household Cavalry and stunning Royal Dragoons paroling in the streets. Does this lovely portrait intrigue my beautiful ladies?”

Elizabeth and Madeline exchanged excited glances.

“Could they spare you at the office, Edward?”

“My negotiations are concluded to my satisfaction. The ships will sail for Africa in a couple of weeks, some of them from Ramsgate so it would be a prudent time for me to visit them before they set sail. If I can convince you, ladies, to forego Brighton for Ramsgate?”

“It matters little to me as long as there is sea air to be had,” Madeline replied while smiling softly.

“I have never even seen the sea, much less visited. It matters nought where we go to me neither,” Elizabeth agreed. Joy filling her breast at the mere thought of such an adventure.

“What will we do with the children, Edward?”

“You need to rest my dear. I suggest you write to Jane and ask her if she might be willing to mind the children. That way we and the children may have an adventure and you may join them a month later. Hopefully, with your health restored.”

“I will write to Jane tomorrow morning,” Madeline conceded.

“I will prepare my office for a long absence. Elizabeth, are you prepared to join us?”

“Oh yes, if my father allows...”

“You should add the request for our niece to join us to your letter Madeline.”

Madeline nodded absentmindedly. Her thought was already in Ramsgate, strolling the beach.

“May I offer you another suggestion?”

The ladies both nodded.

“To avoid the dry and dusty roads, we could travel by the way of the sea. Dust free and plenty of fresh air. Another boon is there is rarely any rough seas, this time of year...”

“I have never set foot on a ship...”

Elizabeth was lost to the rest of the dinner conversation. She was sailing on high tides out the Thames and heading for the sea, shores and beautiful cliffs. What were men compared to white cliffs and sandy beaches? Nothing!

XxX

The days before their departure passed so quickly. A couple of new sleeveless dresses were ordered if the weather should prove to be exceedingly warm. Umbrellas were bought to protect them from the sun and the children were escorted to Longbourn by Mr Gardiner and Elizabeth while Mrs Gardiner rested at home. They travelled to Longbourn in the morning and back in the afternoon. The next day they set sail for Ramsgate where Mr Gardiner had let rooms at the Bear's Albion Hotel.

They had smooth sailing in lovely weather for the eight hours they were on board the ship. Enough wind to make a speedy journey yet not too many waves to make them sick. The ladies strolled the deck and watched the shoreline.

“What do you say, ladies, that is the white cliffs of Ramsgate. Beautiful, is it not?”

“It certainly is...” Elizabeth was gobsmacked. Even more when they were escorted to their rooms at the Albion. Her room overlooked the gardens, beyond was the harbour and the sea. She thought she could bear very well to stay here for a month. In fact, she might never want to leave...

XxX

Mrs Gardiner's continued illness soon became apparent. A walk on the sandy beach ended in severe coughing fits and Mr Gardiner was busy with his ships that were about to set sail for West Africa. Elizabeth despaired of utilising her visit to Ramsgate to full effect.  
She could not ask Mrs Gardiner to escort her, Mr Gardiner was busy and she could not stroll around town by herself.   
They had brought just the one maid which she shared with her aunt. She could not in good conscience deprive her aunt of her maid to walk on the beach. If only Jane was here...

She had to content herself with little trips to the shops and the Bazar. The town even had a billiard room, not that it did her any good. It was a gentleman's sport but Elizabeth would have dearly liked to try it, only once...  
She got to look upon the bathing machines, pulling people out into the water with a dipper for the ladies, while the gentlemen could hire a rower to convey them out into the deeper waters. The bathing took place early in the mornings. She had heard that nine o’clock was a perfect time. It was all too tempting to a sheltered country maiden from Hertfordshire. She wanted to experience it all.

“Does that girl remind you of someone?” Mrs Gardiner asked Elizabeth while sipping daintily on her cup of tea. Her eyes just giving a minute flicker in the direction she was intending for Elizabeth to look.  
Elizabeth glanced her way and stifled a gasp. It was the girl from Madame Celeste who had usurped her appointment. It had been at an importune timing too. The girl had looked up and met her gaze, her eyes had widened considerably. It was no question she had recognised her. Elizabeth pondered a mere second what to do before she gave the niece of a countess an assuring smile and turned back to her aunt.

“There is something familiar about that girl. I cannot put my finger on it...”

“It is the girl that was with the countess of Matlock when we ordered my first gowns from Madame Celeste.”

“Yes, I know that but there is something else. I wonder if I could have known her as a child. I believe she has recognised me as well. It looks like she is persuading her companion to come over to our table. She must be the daughter of someone I know...”

Just as Mrs Gardiner predicted, the girl approached with her companion in tow.  
She looked dreadfully shy and insecure. Elizabeth’s heart went off for her...

“I am so sorry to interrupt your pleasant morning but I could not leave without expressing my heartfelt regrets for usurping your appointment at Madame Celeste's.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Elizabeth offered magnanimously. Her pick evaporated with the honest regrets.   
“I was measured for several gowns which would have made your wait much longer than mine at the French modiste from Cornwall,” Elizabeth added to lighten the mood but the modiste’s accent had been unmistakable none French and much more common in the South of England. “I will do something untoward which should make us even by introducing myself and my aunt. I am Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. This is my aunt, Mrs Gardiner of London.”

The girl curtsied and smiled tentatively.

“I am Miss Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire and this is my companion, Mrs Young.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth replied tentatively.

“As am I, Miss Darcy. I thought I had recognised you, you are so like your mother.”

“You knew my mother?” Miss Darcy had involuntarily taken an eager step forward.

“Only from a distance, I was the daughter of the bookstore owner in Lambton. Mr Lambert but he passed ten years ago. I doubt you remember him but my brother has taken over his shop. Perhaps you have had occasion to see him?”

“Oh yes, my brother often takes me to the bookshop. I do like to read.”

“Really, so do I,” Elizabeth interjected when the thought hit her. She had called herself Miss Darcy... Surely not, there could be no connection between the two, it was too much of a coincidence. She had been in London a week before their dinner engagement. Could she be a relative of that insufferable, arrogant, conceited nitwit she had met in town?  
Poor thing, she did not seem as haughty as her brother though.

The frown between Elizabeth’s brows smoothed out but Miss Darcy took flight and excused herself from their company.

“We will leave you to enjoy your tea but I would love to hear your thoughts about my mother someday, Mrs Gardiner.”

“It would be my pleasure but bear in mind I did not know her well.   
We are staying for a month, Miss Darcy, at the Albion Hotel. Please call on us if you are in the neighbourhood.”

“Thank you, Mrs Gardiner. She died when I was very young and I have no memories of her. It is such a comfort to hear anyone talk about her.”

“Then I hope we will see you again, Miss Darcy.”

The girl and her companion left them to themselves. With their teacups emptied they soon followed to peruse another shop until Mr Gardiner had finished his inspection of the ships. He promised to take Elizabeth to the harbour the next day if she wanted to learn a little more about sailing. Elizabeth happily acquiesced to the scheme.

XxX

Elizabeth strolled down to the harbour at her uncle’s side. She had a question but was uncertain how to go about it.  
Her uncle chatted about the palm oil trade and the long sailing his ships were about to embark on.

“Is this adventure to Africa a result of the negotiations at our dinner engagement?”

“Yes, it is a joint adventure with three other gentlemen.”

“Mr Bingley?”

“Yes, and Mr Hurst and Mr Darcy.”

“Oh, we met a young girl called Miss Darcy today. She was from Pemberley in Derbyshire but I guess there is little chance of any connection between the two.”

Her uncle chuckled. “Small world, is it not? Mr Darcy is the owner of Pemberley in Derbyshire. In fact, it is only five miles from Lambton where your aunt grew up. It is a very grand estate that he come to inherit about five years ago when his good father passed. The late Mr Darcy was an outstanding man, I am sure the son is as well.”

Outstandingly haughty, Elizabeth thought uncharitably to herself. No wonder he was such a proud and disagreeable man. The wealth must have gone to his head. It could not be healthy for one’s humility to come into too much money at a too young an age. Why, he could not have been much more than twenty years of age? Her own age when she came to think of it.   
Mr Bingley had not even seemed surprised by his rude remarks on the evening of their dinner engagement. It must be a habit of sort, prancing around, insulting unsuspecting young females. She became absolutely certain it must be a routine of Mr Darcy’s, to slight young ladies who did not match his unachievable standard.  
He must be the reason Miss Darcy was so shy and insecure. Making her tall and womanly figure seem younger than she really was.  
He probably held her to the same impossible standards that he expected from his dance partners. Quite possibly even worse since she was of his blood. The great Darcy name must not be sullied by tolerable looks nor slights of men. The strain of living with such burdens upon a young lady must be substantial. Elizabeth immediately thought that should she meet Miss Darcy again, she would take pains to be kind to the girl. She deserved no such censures as she would bestow upon Miss Darcy's brother. It would be like putting Lydia's wild ways at Elizabeth’s door, highly unfair. 

XxX

Aunt Gardiner was sitting in the vestibule of the Albion Hotel, talking to a young gentleman, when Elizabeth came hastily down the stairs. She had momentarily hurried back to her room to pick up her forgotten reticule.   
The gentleman turned and Elizabeth's knees went disturbingly wobbly. It was like they had turned into jelly, all of a sudden.   
Elizabeth recognised the sensation and reined in her emotions. It was the second time she had had an immediate reaction to a handsome young gentleman. Wise from previous injury, she approached the couple tentatively whilst she studied the gentleman.  
He was average height with curly dark hair, brown expressive eyes and a shadowy strong jaw. He looked like he was in need of a good shave but her father had excessive hair growth. The stubbles appeared after a few hours. This man might be the same and not neglectful of his appearance.  
Her eyes travelled southward and noticed the collar. He was a vicar...

“Elizabeth, there you are. Come meet an old friend of mine. Mr Wickham, this is my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. Elizabeth, this is Mr Wickham. He was the son of my father’s very good friend, Mr Wickham senior. They have both sadly passed but I did watch Mr Wickham as a babe. He was just adorable with the most unruly curly hair you could imagine. His mother despaired of ever taming it. I can well imagine it is why you are keeping it a little long, Mr Wickham.”

Mr Wickham's hair did reach below his ears, Elizabeth noticed.

The Reverend smiled and winked at Mrs Gardiner.

“Yes, it is still as unruly as it was back in my nursery days. I am afraid the owner has not fared any better.”

“Still a mischievous rascal, I imagine.”

“Yes, mam,” Mr Wickham saluted Mrs Gardiner and smiled a toothy grin.

The tone was familiar and friendly, Elizabeth even suspected her aunt to engage in mild flirtation. He made her aunt smile, Elizabeth could not fault her. He had such easy manners and charming appearance. One could not but take an instant liking to the man.

Mr Wickham turned his attention towards Elizabeth. He took her outstretched hand and lifted it to his lips for a reverent kiss. Elizabeth felt her cheeks blooming in heat and averted her eyes.

“Enchanted, Madame,” he added and smiled.

“Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth almost sputtered. She had to get a grip on herself. She was in great danger of losing her heart, if not her head to this man, if she did not.   
She decided immediately that she was destined for plain Joe of some modest means or she might lose all her faculties.

“Pray, tell me, in what parish is your living?” Her aunt rescued Elizabeth from making an even greater fool of herself.

“I am afraid I do not have one at the moment. I had heard there was a vacancy in Ramsgate but alas, it was already taken when I arrived.”

“I would have thought...” Mrs Gardiner stopped herself before she could finish her sentence.

Mr Wickham smiled sadly, an understanding passed between them that Elizabeth was not included in.

“Mr Darcy bequeathed me the living of Kympton but when it became vacant... The son had another opinion on the matter...”

Mr Wickham seemed reluctant to embellish and fell quiet but Elizabeth needed no more incentive beyond what had already been implied.

“You should seek regress, you cannot let it stand!” Elizabeth was appalled, having all her worst conjectures of Mr Darcy thoroughly confirmed by an equitable party. A man of the cloth...

“I am afraid not. There was an informality in the wording of the will of such a nature as to leave me no hope of aid from the law. An honourable man would not have questioned the obvious intent but the son does not part from his money easily. He is agreeable enough towards those of equal rank but a lowly vicar, and the son of his father’s steward, is nothing to him. I am certain that when the awarded day comes, he will be judged for his actions. I will leave it in the almighty Lord's hands.   
I cannot besmirch the loving memory I have of his father by dragging his son through a scandalous trial.  
Mr Darcy, the elder, was the best man I have ever known and a dear friend. The feeling was mutual, he favoured me and wanted me to prosper beyond what could be expected from my humble beginnings. He was a very generous man and my patron through Eton and Cambridge. He wanted to secure my education for the presentation of the Kympton living when it would become vacant. The thought that he strived to provide for me has to be enough. It is such a comfort to know.”

Elizabeth had put a comforting hand on his arm without realising it and quickly withdrew. Mr Wickham's forbearance was admirable, she doubted she would have the same tolerance had she been in his position.

“Mr Darcy is a very disagreeable man, despicable even. He should be hanged, drawn and quartered.”

“I doubt you would say so had you met him.”

“Oh, I have met him.”

“You have?” Mr Wickham looked genuinely surprised and so did Mrs Gardiner.

“We were at the same dinner party at Mr Charles Livingstone's residence in London. I did not speak with him but he and his friend stood beside my seat during the last set of the evening. What I accidentally overheard was appalling.” Elizabeth tried, unsuccessfully to keep the bitterness she felt out of her voice.

“What could he have said that was so shocking, Elizabeth?”

“I rather not say but he spoke very disparagingly about a young lady in attendance. Even his friend, Mr Bingley was horrified. I could read it on his countenance.” It was not a lie, just not the whole truth. 

“You cannot leave us in suspense, Miss Bennet...” 

Mr Wickham was very persuasive and his looks so honest. What harm could it do?

“He deemed a pretty young lady only tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him. Within her hearing no less. He continued to proclaim he was in no mood to give consequence to young ladies that were slighted by other men.”

“Shocking,” Mrs Gardiner exclaimed and took a closer look at her niece. Understanding dawned on her. “Well, I have never... He must be severely lacking in manners...”

“He is most disagreeable, too proud and very ill-tempered,” Mr Wickham added.

It felt good to relieve her heart. To speak openly of what she had overheard and to get confirmation that it was shockingly rude. It was not her own wounded pride speaking.

Mr Wickham escorted the ladies to the shops before he took his leave and bade them a good evening. He expressed regrets that he was running out of time for his next appointment and wished that he would see them again, soon.

Elizabeth felt elated. If she was not careful, she was in great danger of falling in love with the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: My inspiration for Mr Wickham in this story might surprise you. To find out, you may visit my Pinterest page (elin.haraldsdatter) and the board Unforgivable Sinner or you may ask and I will tell.  
> https://pin.it/3E5VHt2


	4. New Aquaintances

Chapter 4 New Acquaintance

“I have some bad news,” her uncle expressed one morning.

“Oh no, please do not tell me you have been called home and we must cut our visit short?”

Mr Gardiner patted Elizabeth’s hand.

“No, not as bad as that. I was actually hoping to extend our stay. I believe Madeline has improved somewhat but the Hotel has no rooms available. The Duke of Clarence, the Prince Regent's younger brother, is to hold a ball at the Hotel. Rumoured to be more fashionable splendour and elegance than ever before seen. I have a hankering to witness it but alas. He has rented the entire Hotel from August the first. Making it impossible for us to extend our stay, unfortunately.”

“We still have three weeks left, uncle. Let us hope we have tired of Ramsgate by then.”

“You are always the one to cheer me up, Elizabeth. You could have become a permanent fixture in our home had not your father been so fond of you too.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I believe you have enough with your own four children, without taking on one of your nieces as well, dear uncle but I will be eternally grateful for this opportunity to see a bit of England. I hope to travel the lot, someday. To see the beaches of Cornwall, climb the peaks of Derbyshire and the continent too when the war is over.”

“You should marry a gipsy,” her uncle replied wryly.

“No, she need not marry at all, she could join a travelling theatre troop and earn her own pennies. She knows all of Shakespeare’s plays...”

Elizabeth rested her head in her hands, lost to the world outside her thoughts. Dreaming of all the places she would like to experience that she hitherto had only read about.

XxX

They were dining in the restaurant at the Hotel this evening. A lovely room with a grand marble fireplace as the focal point. The room was filled to the brim. Fortunately, they had made reservations.

Miss Darcy was there, with her companion, the countess that had escorted her to the modiste in town and a Colonel in his Majesty's Army.   
Elizabeth smiled at her but did not want to disturb her party by approaching her table. She had an ample amount of sympathy for the girl. Not because of her current company, she seemed comfortable in their association but the brother she had left at home. Mr Wickham had cemented Elizabeth’s belief of that man's many flaws. Perhaps there were advantages to having only sisters. What if Lydia had been a boy? She would have run rampant over her sisters and her mother would have condoned it.  
Elizabeth shook off the disagreeable musing and ate her lovely supper. Tomorrow was a new day...

XxX

The next day was excruciatingly hot, the sun burned from early morning with not a cloud in sight. Not even a breeze was to be had...  
Elizabeth stood on the paved incline towards the water and wished in earnest that she was still a child. The sleeveless gown and parasol did not change the fact that air was quivering with heat.  
The young residents of Ramsgate were running bare into the cooling waters, laughing and frolicking in the lazy waves. Had it not been such a scandalous thing to do, Elizabeth would have joined them. Bearing in mind it was still early morning. This day had the prophecy of becoming insufferable by the time the sun reached its peak...

Her aunt wanted to return to the shaded garden below the Hotel. Perhaps there would be a little wind a little higher up in the terrain?   
They were escorted to a seating era and ordered two ice creams to cool off on.

A footman approached with a message. Mrs Gardiner exclaimed and told the footman to bring them here, to the shady part of the garden.

“Elizabeth, Miss Darcy is coming to see us. I will ask you not to mention what we know of Miss Darcy's brother. It would only bring her unnecessary pain.”

“Not more pain than having such a man for a brother,” Elizabeth remarked wryly. “We should spare the girl from the discomfort of remembering him. I shall not mention him with a word, aunt. In fact, I shall not even think of him for the rest of my life.”

Miss Darcy was not alone, her companion was with her as always. She met them with an open smile and an inviting manner. What a change, Elizabeth thought before she castigated herself. It was a chaperones responsibility to be wary of new acquaintances. She did not know them and Miss Darcy was obviously a wealthy heiress. She had heard whispers in the restaurant the previous evening that Miss Darcy had a fortune of thirty thousand pounds. An unfathomable amount of money in Elizabeth’s eyes. She would have been quite satisfied with a third of that amount but alas, her father was not much of a saver and her mother too much of a spender. 

“Please, do join us here in the shade and have a cup of tea or ice cream if you prefer.”

Their guests ordered ice cream and sat down at their table.

Mrs Gardiner regaled them with tales of the late Mrs Darcy. Most of them were observations from afar but her beauty, kind heart and stellar reputation were easy to convey. Her benevolence toward the poor was unparalleled. Elizabeth surmised that while Georgiana had inherited all the goodness, the brother had been passed by. There must have been just enough for one sibling...

Miss Darcy listened spellbound with her wide green eyes, whilst absentmindedly twirling one of her red ringlets. She looked to have natural curls, like Elizabeth herself albeit Elizabeth’s was dark brown. Almost as dark as Mrs Young's. Mrs Young, Elizabeth guessed was in her mid-twenties by the subtle lines around her eyes. She was still beautiful though, with a tall, regal bearing and beautiful blue eyes.  
Miss Darcy was a beauty too but not in the traditional sense. Her eyes were big, her lips were full but it was the high cheekbones Elizabeth would have traded if she could.   
Her manners were more open now that they had become more familiar with each other.   
Mrs Young held herself a little more aloof by comparison but her manners were impeccable.  
Elizabeth detected a slight Southern accent but it could be her imagination.  
She spoke nothing of herself so it was difficult to discern.

There was a lull in the conversation when Mrs Gardiner had exhausted the topic of the late Mrs Darcy. Which made Elizabeth wonder if there was a current Mrs Darcy when she remembered that Georgiana was fond of books.

“We could discuss the latest on dits in the literary world,” Elizabeth suggested.

“Oh yes, I would love that,” Georgiana replied hastily.

The girls spoke of books or rather, Elizabeth carried most of the conversation. Georgiana was exceedingly shy and too insecure to add much of her own opinion. Probably a repercussion of having Mr Darcy for brother if she was allowed to speak at all when she was at home.   
She did mention her brother's very extensive library but thawed first when bathing was mentioned.  
Elizabeth lamented the fact that she had not the opportunity to try it, Mrs Gardiner's did not allow it as she could not go by herself.  
Georgiana immediately offered her to join her and her companion the next morning. The flannel bathing gown was possible to rent at the bathhouse.  
Mrs Young was not fond of sea bathing and would prefer not to join her when she went out in the bathing machine. She would accompany them down to the beach and wait in the tearoom of the bathing house until they were finished.  
It was agreed upon that they would come by the Albion Hotel to pick up Elizabeth as their rented home was further up the East cliff.

The ladies bade them goodbye and retreated to their home. 

Elizabeth kept her improved mood for the rest of the day despite the gruelling heat. She was finally going to experience a dip in the sea... 

XxX

Undressing and readying themselves before the bathing, removed the last impediments from the developing friendship between Georgiana and Elizabeth. They dispatched any notion of formality and called each other by their Christian names. Giggling like two nursery girls, they donned the shapeless flannel gowns and laughed at themselves. Elizabeth threatened to wear it to the evening’s dinner as it would protect her from any male attention for the rest of her life.

“Do you not want to marry, Elizabeth?”

“My eldest sister and I have sworn that we would only marry for the deepest of love, Georgiana. No wealth, consequence nor grand estates would draw me in. Oh no, it has to be the deepest of affection, with respect, of course.”

“I would like to marry for love...” Georgiana sighed despairingly.

“As you should, Georgiana. Let no one tell you otherwise. Marriage is a lifelong commitment and should be entered with the greatest of caution. Love will not assure your happiness but no love is the surest way to misery of the acutest kind.”

“You are so wise, Elizabeth. I wish...”

What Georgiana would wish was never expressed as the bathing machine lurched forward, making its travellers shriek in surprise and laugh in embarrassment.   
It was a bumpy ride and they had to hold on tight to the benches inside, not to topple over each other.

The dippers knocked on the door, signalling that they may come out whenever they were ready.  
Elizabeth went first and declined the aid of the dipper, she was barely waist-deep in water. Elizabeth liked to be in control and ascended the steps tentatively. The water felt cold after being cooped up in the hot machine.  
The dipper must be tall because the water was a bit deeper than she expected and she could not stifle a gasp when it reached her belly.  
Bravely she forged on and quickly dipped beneath the surface. It was heavenly once she had adjusted to the cooler temperature.

“It is lovely Georgiana, you must come and try it. It felt a little cold at the beginning but now, I do not think I will ever want to leave.”

Georgiana sat down on the stairs and stuck a toe in the water.  
“It is not so bad...” She climbed down and immediately braved a few strokes.

“You have been holding back on me, you know how to swim?”

“Yes, my brother taught me when I was little. There is a river and a great lake in front of Pemberley. I guess he was afraid that I would fall in and needed to learn how to swim.”

So there was one advantage of having a brother...

“Can you teach me?”

“Certainly!” Georgiana was all smiles at the opportunity of being of service to her new friend.

Boatmen hired by gentlemen bathers rowed them out into the deeper waters. It was one of those who opted to shed his robe and jump bare into the sea that almost made the ladies drown by the way of giggles. He was too far away to notice anything of significance but just to be able to gauge his attire or rather lack thereof was quite enough in Elizabeth’s mind. It was not decent and certainly not a ladylike occupation.

“I think we should turn our backs on that particular spectacle, do you not agree, Georgiana?”

“Most definitely...”

Had it been a young and handsome man, it might have been more difficult but as it was not, the ladies modestly turned their heads towards the youngsters frolicking on the beach.  
Elizabeth managed a few strokes but did not become a proficient swimmer during the hour they had available but a lifelong friendship had been established that would withstand great adversity.

XxX

Elizabeth obtained an invitation to dine with Georgiana and Mrs Young a couple of days later. After receiving permission from her aunt and uncle, an affirmative reply was sent by messenger.

Georgiana had rented a house on Castle Road, near the church. Elizabeth was allowed to walk the few blocks from Albion with their maid to escort her. They had no carriage with them and it was too short a walk to hire a hack.  
Georgiana greeted her as soon as she walked in the door and waited until the footman had removed to the anteroom with Elizabeth's parasol and wrap.  
She took Elizabeth’s hands in hers and spoke quietly so no one who might be eavesdropping could overhear.

“May I trust you with a secret, Elizabeth?”  
“Of course, I am your friend am I not?”  
“Then you must come and meet my fiancé.”  
Elizabeth had to stifle a gasp. When Georgiana mentioned a secret, she had not imagined such a nefarious reveal. How romantic...  
“May I be the first to wish you joy, Georgiana but why the secrecy?”  
“I fear my brother will not approve.”  
“Why am I not surprised.”  
“Do you know my brother?”  
“Not formally, no. We have never been properly introduced but I have met him at a dinner party in town, a few weeks ago, that left me in the fullest belief of his arrogance, his conceit and his general lack of consideration for the feelings of others.”  
“Truly? My brother is usually admired wherever he goes, especially by the females.”  
“Really? It must be his wealth they are after because it is certainly not his charming manners.”  
“You really do not like him?”  
Elizabeth wondered how candid she should be, she had already spoken too much too hastily. She needed not embellish any further the traits of a beloved but faulty brother. Elizabeth bit her lower lip in consternation. She really should not have made such disparaging comments, regardless of their truthfulness. Yet, she could not flat out lie.  
“Not at all...” Uneasy suddenly overrode Elizabeth’s senses. “But how can you be certain your brother would not approve? I hope your fiancé is not some rake that gambles away his fortune at the card tables...”  
“My George is not of our social circle, his inferior birth and lack of connections will make the match entirely impossible in my bother's eyes. He has such high expectations towards my matrimonial state. I overheard him mentioning to my other guardian, cousin Richard who is a colonel in his Majesty’s Army, that with my good looks, sweet disposition and fortune, I might expect at least a title. I do not care for titles, Elizabeth. What good will it do to marry an old Lord or a depraved Baronet if there is no affection between us? It is in every way repugnant to me, even more so after I reunited with my George. He is an old family friend, you see. We all grew up together at Pemberley. He was my father's godson and a great favourite of his.”  
Elizabeth fell into deep thought. Miss Darcy's beau could not be so bad if he had been accepted into their house from childhood, could he? Her father's protégé...   
It did not escape her notice that not even Mr Darcy's own father had entrusted him with the sole responsibility of his beloved daughter. She had heard several accounts of the excellent late Mr Darcy from people she trusted explicitly. If his censure was not telling, nothing was...  
“Please, follow me to the back parlour and I will introduce the two of you. I am certain that you will approve, Elizabeth. He is so handsome and most considerate of my needs. I love him so dearly...”  
Elizabeth was tugged along to the back parlour by a very persistent Georgiana. With his back turned, gazing out of a window into the garden stood a familiar figure. He turned slowly and gave Elizabeth a crooked smile.  
“Mr Wickham!” Elizabeth curtsied hastily and bowed her head to conceal her surprise. So this was Georgiana's dear George... A surge of the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head which she fought to quell before it became apparent to her company. She lifted her head and smiled.  
“May I wish you joy? You have captured one of the finest jewels in the country.”  
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. I hope we can entrust you with our little secret. Not many would oppose the formidable Mr Darcy...”  
“I assure you that I am as acquainted with the gentleman in question as I ever want to be. Your secret is safe with me.”  
The party adjourned to the dining room where Mrs Young awaited them.   
Elizabeth watched the lovers clandestinely. Mr Wickham behaved like a perfect gentleman and paid Georgiana every consideration and attention. It was a relief to see that he did not pay much heed to the very beautiful Mrs Young, although she suspected the lady to be a few years past her prime. Her lush dark hair and regal bearing were of a kind that could turn a gentleman's head regardless of good intentions.  
Instead, Mrs Young turned to Elizabeth for conversation. She revealed that she had been married to a gentleman, a mine owner but his mine had foreclosed, the ore had run dry of the valuable copper. In his despair, her husband had left this earth voluntarily. She had a young son that was currently raised by her mother and father. She was a gentleman's daughter but the land did not yield what it used to. It was implied between the lines that her ancestral home was falling into despair. Mrs Young had opted to seek employment to pay for her son's education. Albeit still too young to attend, the cost of sending the boy to school would be significant.  
Elizabeth’s heart went out to the deprived widow who had carried so many hardships and sorrows on her dainty shoulders. It was not strange that she was quiet and did not smile much. The absence of her son must be felt, keenly...  
When she came home at night the Gardiner's had retired. Elizabeth was glad, she did not like to keep secrets from her aunt and uncle but she had solemnly sworn not to tell...  
XxX  
Mrs Gardiner seemed to revive her health by each passing day. She still could not be persuaded into taking a dip in the sea. Elizabeth went with Georgiana while Mrs Gardiner usually kept Mrs Young with company at the tearoom where papers and periodicals were offered with the tea for those who waited.  
Elizabeth's swimming was coming along nicely. Not yet a proficient but able to keep afloat for a few yards at least. It was by far her favourite activity during the hot July days.


	5. Fool's Errand

Chapter 5 Fool's Errand 

The end of their stay in Ramsgate was closing in. Elizabeth sighed as she penned a reply to Jane’s last letter. She added small tidbits every day and sent a missive once a week.

Jane was thriving while taking care of Gardiners children. Elizabeth doubted she had much aid from her younger sisters nor her mother, to be honest. Jane would make an excellent mother someday. As opposed to herself who would much rather travel and experience something of the world before she settled down. Not that she had any prospects in either category.

The Gardiners were talking about a visit to the Lake District summer next. Elizabeth would dearly like to accompany them but it was far into the future. It may very well come to nought.  
She would be eternally grateful for this opportunity to experience the sea and Ramsgate. It was coming to end much sooner than she liked, was all...

Fortunately, she had an appointment with Georgiana and the bathing machine in half an hour. She would have to finish Jane's letter later...

XxX

Mr Wickham tipped his hat as he passed them on his way to his hired boatman. He was on his way to swim in the deeper waters.   
Elizabeth felt uneasy and glanced towards the tearoom where they had left her aunt and Mrs Young. Keeping such a crucial secret was taking its toll on her conscience...

Rejuvenated by the cool waters, Elizabeth and Georgiana joined Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Young only to find Mr Wickham chatting happily with the ladies.  
Elizabeth turned quiet, afraid if she spoke she might reveal something she should not.

Georgiana, on the other hand, became more exuberant than was her want. She noticed that Mrs Gardiner thought well of her secret intended. Solidifying her belief that she was making the right choice.  
As the party parted, Georgiana extended a dinner invitation to Elizabeth and her relations on the next evening but Mr and Mrs Gardiner had a prior engagement. She urged Elizabeth to go as they were having supper with the elderly master of the harbour. It would not be an interesting event for Elizabeth as there were no young people there. The master was not even married...  
The plan was agreed upon by all but as they turned to walk their separate ways. Georgiana had a last plea to Elizabeth.

“Oh, I wish I could take you home with me, Elizabeth. My brother is sending his carriage to collect me in a week. Pemberley would be so much jollier with you.”

“I doubt it would bring your brother in a good mood, Georgiana.”

“Oh, but he will not be at home. He is off to Hertfordshire to visit with his friend.”

“Derbyshire is sounding more promising by the minute. Goodbye, I will see you on the morrow.”

“I must say you seem to have had a favourable influence on Georgiana, Lizzy. I have never seen her so effervescent. She is practically blooming before our eyes. I knew your vivaciousness and lively spirits would do her a world of good. I am so pleased you have brought joy to that poor girl’s life. Her mother would have been very proud of the lady she has become.”

The praise did not sit well with Elizabeth but she could not remark upon it without raising suspicion and limited herself with a smile for her aunt.

XxX

Elizabeth chose her sleeveless gown for the evening’s engagement in Castle Road. If anything, the weather was getting even balmier as August drew near. She arrived early as a note she had received in the morning had begged her to come before the appointed time. Georgiana wanted to take a stroll along the beach before they dined.   
The breeze would be a welcomed friend and the sun was not burning as hot as it did during the day.

Both Mrs Young and Mr Wickham was accompanying them, it was perfectly safe. 

Steep cliffs dived into the sandy beaches, creating a sliver of shade to be had for those who did not want their porcelain complexion ruined by sunburns. Elizabeth was not one of those but she did feel uncomfortable in the heat.  
The walk did not last as long as Elizabeth would have liked but Georgiana tired easily in the heavy sand. She did not have Elizabeth’s stamina for walking, neither did Mrs Young.  
Mr Wickham gallantly offered each of the tired ladies an arm as they headed back to Castle Road. 

“I have been thinking,” Georgiana uttered as they sat down around the small and intimate dining table. 

Mr Wickham held out her chair. He had become a permanent fixture in their little group over the last few days.  
The first course arrived and Georgiana held her tongue until the meal had been placed and served before she dismissed the footmen.

“I have decided to tell my brother about my love for Mr Wickham. He simply must listen to me!  
I dearly wish you could be persuaded to come with me to Pemberley, Elizabeth...   
Your presence would give me the confidence I need to stand up to my brother. You are always so brave where I am timid. It would make me so happy and I know you have a hankering to see the peaks...”

“Oh yes, the allure of rocks and mountains. You have discovered my weak spot, Georgiana.”

“I want you to ask my brother's permission to marry me, George.”

Georgiana looked adoringly at her concerned fiancé. 

“I do not believe it is a wise course Georgiana, you know he is dead set against me after the trouble at Cambridge...”

“Oh pish tosh, may the gentleman without a little gambling debt throw the first stone. I believe it is quite common.”

“Yes but even though I have repaid it, he does not seem to forget it. He may be the only man I know that did not suffer any vices in his youth and hold everyone else to his standard. I am afraid of what would happen should he deny us...”

“Either way we would have to wait until I become of age. I do not believe I have the patience...”

“My dear Georgiana, let us think about it.”

“I believe it would be wise to ask your brother's consent. He is your guardian but what about your other guardian, the Colonel? Could he be the one to approach first?” Elizabeth interjected.

“He might, he does not look at me as a little girl but he is on an assignment on the continent. He came here to say goodbye before he left. Please Elizabeth, I need you by my side.”

“I cannot come with you without your brother’s consent. What would I do if he does not approve? Remember, he does not think well of me...”

“I thought you were not introduced?”

“True but your brother needed only a look to enumerate my shortcomings.”

“We could send an express and ask his permission before we go,” Mrs Young suggested. “But it has to be done rather quickly because Mr Darcy told me in his last letter that he will return to Pemberley in two days. He is to set his affairs in order before he travels to Mr Bingley's estate in Hertfordshire. He will not be home for long.”

Mrs Young fetched her last letter from Mr Darcy and perused the lines for confirmation.  
Elizabeth studied the name on the envelope page. He wrote evenly like his fastidious personality would suggest when Georgiana gasped. Her hand flew to her neck.

“My necklace!”

Elizabeth glanced up at her. She remembered seeing it around Georgiana's neck when they frolicked at the beach but she could not remember seeing it after they had home.

“Oh no! You must have lost it in the sand at the beach... We must go down to the beach and look for it.”

“Yes, we must. Will you help me search for it, Elizabeth? Mrs Young, could you write the express, asking my brother's approval for Elizabeth’s visit?”

Both ladies acquiesced and the younger ladies ran the short way down to the shoreline. They searched the sand for two hours but the necklace was nowhere to be found.

“It is of no use,” Georgiana sighed dejectedly. “Someone must have taken it.”

“Was it valuable?”

“Yes, it was a Darcy heirloom. My brother will not be pleased. It was a favourite of my mother. It is such an importune moment to vex him.”

“What will you do if your brother withholds his consent?”

“We would have no other choice but to elope...”

“Could you not wait until you are of age?”

“It is five years, Elizabeth. An eternity and then some...:  
Elizabeth was shocked speechless for a moment before she rallied.

“You are six and ten?”

“In a month yes.”

“You are five and ten? I never would have guessed. You are so tall, inches above me and so mature. I have a sister who is five and ten and you, Georgiana is nothing like her. I thought you were at least eight and ten...”

Elizabeth had a lot on her mind while they walked back to Georgiana's house.  
Inside, she studied Mr Wickham and wondered how old he was. She believed he was in his mid-twenties. Not an uncommon age difference and Georgiana was very mature for her age. She could not compare her to Lydia, it was an unfair comparison between two young girls with a very different upbringing and education. While Lydia wiled away her days perusing ribbons and listening to gossip. Georgiana had been taught by governesses, masters and even attended a lady's seminary. It was no wonder she had improved beyond what one would expect. Elizabeth would not have been prepared to marry at five and ten or even six and ten although her mother would have approved. She was ecstatic when a suitor had presented Jane with a few poorly written verses at five and ten. It turned out that a few verses were not equivalent to a forthcoming proposal and the romance had trickled into nothing when Jane went home to Longbourn.  
Georgiana had also lost both her parents at a young age. Those kinds of life-altering events must have added to her early development. Made her wary of her time on earth might be limited and should be made to count. Elizabeth had not really experienced any hardships in comparison...

XxX

Elizabeth asked her aunt and uncle if they would mind if she stayed behind in Ramsgate and travelled to Pemberley with her new friend.   
They did not... Mr Gardiner even sent a note with the letter to her father were he vouched for Georgiana and her companion.  
Georgiana offered to pay for the letter to be sent by express but Elizabeth declined. She had some means but in the end, her aunt paid. She was elated that Elizabeth had been invited to Pemberley. A place she had only watched from a distance during the harvest festival when she was a child.   
The honour of being asked was substantial and the connections she could make might change her life.  
Aunt Madeline urged her to grasp the opportunity with both hands and make the most of it.

Elizabeth still had some concerns but she decided she would have a better opportunity to see if any of them would come to fruition being with Georgiana than staying away at Longbourn.  
It was too late anyhow. The affirmative reply came back from Longbourn two days after Mr Darcy's consent had been received. Mr and Mrs Gardiner packed their belongings and Elizabeth removed to Georgiana's house.  
It was too late now, she would have to travel to Pemberley and the dreaded brother or walk back to London...

Mrs Gardiner had prepared her for the long days, riding in a carriage. Elizabeth had never travelled further than London. A trip of twenty-four miles was nothing compared two hundred and forty. It would take four full days to get there despite travelling on dry summer roads.

XxX

Mr Darcy's carriage arrived in Castle Road, early in the morning on the appointed day. Elizabeth wondered at the driver's lack of livery, their regular carriage must be in use by its master.  
The anticipation of her fellow travellers was contagious and soon turned her thoughts towards more pleasant topics. It was obvious they were all greatly looking forward to being at Pemberley, it must be something special.

Mr Wickham rode on his horse on the outside of the carriage, leaving plenty of room for the three ladies inside. Elizabeth was glad he did not opt to ride inside. It would somehow make the deception she had withheld from her aunt and uncle more sever. She could not help who travelled on the road with them, could she? Mr Wickham added to their safety. Two men were better than only the one elderly driver.

Elizabeth found that she liked very much to travel, despite the dust and the sun. They pulled down the roof to utilise the breeze to be had. It was much to look upon as they travelled the coast towards London and beyond, turning onto the Great Northern Road.

XxX

Their first night, the ladies had to share one bedroom. The Inn was full and Mr Wickham had to settle on a bench in the common room. Georgiana and Elizabeth shared the bed while Mrs Young slept on a cot in the dressing room.

The next evening, further away from the bustle of town, there was room enough for everyone to be had. Elizabeth ordered a bath since she had the privacy of her own chamber. It was a small sitting tub but it did not matter when she was able to get the road dust off her person.

It was not until the fifth day on the road that she started to feel some concern. She had expected them to reach Pemberley at any time but the hours passed without the grand home in sight. When she asked the more knowledgeable in her party, it was always the same answer, soon...

At lunch, she asked Georgiana, despite the danger of sounding like a spoiled child, if they would be there shortly...

Georgiana exchanged glances with Wickham and Mrs Young. 

“There has been a slight change of plans. Would you take a stroll around the garden with me?”

Elizabeth acquiesced, it was clear she wanted to address something that could not be broached inside the common room of a busy roadside inn. Elizabeth waited until they had reached a safe distance from the windows and repeated her question.

“We have one more day to travel before we reach our destination. Around noon tomorrow, we should be there if the rest of the trip continue without mishaps.”

“Yes, I have noticed that the roads farther north are not as well maintained as the roads closer to London. I thought I saw a glimpse of the sea to my left but it must have been a large lake,” Elizabeth remarked.

“That is because we have passed Morecombe Bay.”

“I did not believe Pemberley was situated that close to the coast.”

“It is not, we are soon to enter the Lake District. We are taking a detour to Gretna Green to get married. I am sorry I have deceived you but I feared your reaction. You have lived a sheltered life in Hertfordshire, I have been much in London and attended Mrs Hewlett's seminar. It was educational...”

Despite Georgiana's expressed concern, Elizabeth had to speak up.

“Georgiana, you really should not. I know I have not spoken well of your brother but I really do not know him. I should not have spoken so decidedly. Why do we not turn around and give him the benefit of the doubt? You should be married with your family around you, not clandestinely over the blacksmith's anvil. It will create a scandal that will make your life unnecessary arduous and create a breach between you and your closest family that may be strenuous upon your marriage.”

“I have to stop you there, Elizabeth,” Georgiana replied seriously.

“It is too late...”

Elizabeth studied her friend. Could she mean what she thought she meant? Mr Wickham had behaved solicitously towards Georgiana but she had seen no evidence of him taking liberties upon her person. The ugly thought of Georgiana having thirty thousand pounds dowry as an incentive reared in her mind. She had to ask...

“Has Mr Wickham persuaded, coaxed or forced himself on you in any way, Georgiana?”

“Oh no, nothing of the kind. You might say it was the other way around.”

“How come?” Elizabeth retorted sharply before she could stop herself.

“I went to his room under the disguise that I needed help to loosen my stays. I told him that I had rung for the maid but no one was coming and that you and Mrs Young were already asleep.  
Mr Wickham warned me against tempting him so. Begged me to return to my room but I told him that I wanted to tempt him.”

“Why, Georgiana? Why would you do such a thing, on purpose no less? I do not understand...”

“I do not believe that my brother would have given his consent, Elizabeth. He is irrational when I am concerned. He believe I am still a child and acts overbearing and overprotective.   
I cannot wait for five years to be happy. Since my father died five years ago, Fitzwilliam has been swamped in estate matters and obligations towards the rest of our family and his friends. He is never at home and I have a lovely home, Elizabeth, but it is very lonely when you have no one to share it with. Mr Wickham cares for me, deeply. I do not dare to call it love but he is kind to me and fun to be with. He makes me laugh...  
I love him so much it hurts, I cannot bear to be without him, I cannot...”

Tears welled in Georgiana's eyes. Elizabeth had no trouble believing her earnestness but she could not condone her choices. Besides, her description of her brother did not quite fit her perception of him...

“I do not know what to say, Georgiana. I feel deceived and I cannot but worry for you and the choices you have made. I cannot in good conscience approve of your way of getting a husband. That said, the deed is done. You are right, you have to marry...”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. I knew you would understand.”

Elizabeth thought she did nothing of the kind. Her mind was in a jumble but there was only one option on how to proceed. Hopefully, they would arrive safely in Gretna Green and they would marry and be done with it...


	6. Disruption of Peace

Chapter 6 Disruption of Peace

In two days, he would leave to pick up Georgiana from her sojourn at Ramsgate. Her letters had been few and far between which left him unsettled.   
He did not have time to stop and converse with a business associate unless it was urgent... He slowed his pace and let the poor fellow catch up with him.  
“Mr Darcy, I am surprised to see you here in London but I am so glad I caught up with you. I wanted to convey my sincere congratulations on bringing up such a marvellous sister.”  
“You know my sister, Mr Gardiner?”  
“We have just arrived home from an extended stay in Ramsgate and we were thrilled when Elizabeth was invited to come with her to Pemberley. It is an honour which is deeply felt, I assure you but Elizabeth is such a pleasant girl. Her liveliness has done wonders for your sister. She is my elder sister's second daughter of five. Her father is Mr Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. I believe his estate abuts the estate Mr Bingley has leased from Michaelmas.”  
“Elizabeth?” Mr Darcy asked while ruminating on the possibility of Bingley accidentally leasing a property that was neighbouring Mr Gardiner's sister with five daughters...   
“I beg your pardon, she is my niece so I am allowed to use her Christian name. You will know her as Miss Bennet.”  
“I fear I do not understand. I am quite certain I do not know any Miss Elizabeth nor Miss Bennet.”  
“But... Georgiana invited her to visit Pemberley. You were sending a carriage to pick them up in a few days. We left Elizabeth in Ramsgate under the impression that she was under your protection. Pray, tell me we have not been deceived?”  
Mr Gardiner was working up a temper but so was he. He did not know what kind of game he was playing but he intended to get to the bottom of it forthwith.  
“May we remove from the street to finish this discussion? May I suggest we take my carriage to my home? It is about ten minutes.”  
Mr Gardiner nodded, he did not mind seeing Mr Darcy's home.  
The twosome remained in silent contemplation until they were safely ensconced in the privacy of Mr Darcy's study with a glass of port in their hand.  
“Have I perceived it correctly that you have been in Ramsgate with a niece and encountered my sister?”  
“Yes,” Mr Gardiner answered, hiding his exasperation. He did not like to repeat himself but he knew Mr Darcy was a meticulous man.  
“During which an invitation to visit Pemberley was extended?”  
“Yes.”  
“By whom?”  
“By your sister, Miss Darcy. It only came about a few days before we left. The girls have spent a significant amount of time together and have become dear friends. Mrs Young allegedly sent an express to you, to ask your permission which was granted the next day. According to her, you were just leaving for Pemberley yourself which is why it was necessary to send the request by express and why I was surprised to see you. I thought you were at your Derbyshire home, not in London.   
Your carriage is supposed to pick them up and convey them to Pemberley as you would be too busy to accompany Miss Darcy to Derbyshire.   
Miss Darcy wished for Elizabeth’s company, particularly because you are off to Hertfordshire to visit a friend. Am I correct so far.”

“Not exactly...   
Firstly, I would never send a carriage for Georgiana. She is always escorted by myself or another close male relative.  
Secondly, she is not going to Pemberley but is coming here to London to take advantage of the masters in town.  
Thirdly, I have never heard of an Elizabeth nor a Miss Bennet. No request of bringing a friend to neither Pemberley nor London has been forwarded to me.”

Mr Gardiner and Mr Darcy were staring at each other.

“Elizabeth was with me at the dinner at Charles Livingstone's house.”

“We were never introduced.”

“What should we do?”

“I will leave at first light tomorrow and ride to Ramsgate. It is the most efficient way. I will unravel what has happened and hire a carriage to escort both ladies home, to London that is. I am a bachelor and cannot have a maiden living in my house. I hope you understand, Mr Gardiner, that I by no means mean any slight towards your niece. It is simply not done and I prefer to follow the strictures of society to avoid any...”

“Yes, I understand. I can well imagine you must be hunted by the daughters of the ton and their mamas. I do not believe you are in any danger from Elizabeth though. She is fiercely independent, of a romantic disposition while too sensible to be impressed by wealth and consequences without some attention to affection. As long as you do not fall deeply in love with her, you should be safe...”

“I can assure you there is very little chance of that ever happening.”

“I did not think so... Although I do believe your sister might have a slight infatuation as young girls are prone to develop.”

“What?” The word was spoken more sharply than he intended.

“Nothing to worry about, the gentleman in question has impeccable manners and is a member of the cloth.”

Darcy relaxed, slightly...

“Do you happen to know the vicar's name?”

“Yes, it is Mr Wickham.”  
“Hell and damnation the bloody scoundrel.”  
“Mr Darcy!”

“I beg you pardon, Mr Gardiner. I have to leave at once. There is not an instance to lose. I thank you for your aid though. It might prove to be invaluable... I am forever grateful that you approached me on the street today.”

“Certainly, Mr Darcy. May I wish you a speedy journey...”

Mr Darcy pulled the bell and ordered his horse saddled and ready, a saddlebag of victuals and his coat while he was escorting Mr Gardiner out the door. Mr Gardiner became grave as this was obviously a serious matter to Mr Darcy.

“If I can be of assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

“I will,” Mr Darcy shook his hand and disappeared into his house.

Mr Gardiner was out in the streets within the blink of an eye. He had not even rounded the corner of the block when Mr Darcy left his mews on his black stallion.   
Mr Gardiner's pensive thoughts grew to alarmed. It was obvious that Mr Darcy had another view of the vicar than himself and his wife. He had hoped to God that Mr Darcy was jumping the gun, so to speak, but what he knew of the man, he very much doubted it.

Rapid horse hooves approached him from behind. Mr Darcy had turned and came after him. What now?

“Mr Gardiner, I will keep you posted on what I discover and bring your niece safely back home.”

“I thank you, Mr Darcy.”

With a tip of his hat, Mr Darcy was gone. Mr Gardiner was left with a niggling feeling and a lot of apprehensions. He would make his own inquiries, clandestinely, as not to upset his wife...

XxX

Mr Darcy reached Ramsgate at a record-breaking speed only to find his rented home empty of its occupants.  
Meticulous as he was, he questioned his servants and found an alarming amount of information but not what he sought.

Georgiana had befriended a young girl, a petite and vivacious brunette who was generally liked amongst his staff.   
The vicar had often called upon his sister. A family friend from Derbyshire and his father's godson. A well mannered young gentleman who was known to Miss Bennet's aunt or rather his late father had been a friend of her father.  
Mrs Gardiner was another lady his staff thought well about. He could not fault them in this instant. He had met Mr Gardiner's wife on a few occasions and although she was obviously not well. She had seemed like a genteel, fashionable and wise lady. Her brother owned the bookstore in Lambton, he even remembered her father which was a friend of the late Mr Wickham. It was perhaps not strange if she thought well of the son if she went by the excellent father. Unfortunately, his son was nothing like him...

A carriage, supposedly his, had arrived the previous morning and departed for Pemberley with Georgiana, Mrs Young and Miss Bennet inside. 

Darcy was relieved to hear that Mr Wickham was not among them. Perhaps he had misjudged the situation but the aforementioned Mr Wickham had not taken it well when the Kympton living became available and he had not been of a mind to grant it to him. The three thousand pounds he had received in lieu of the living was conveniently forgotten. The words exchanged did none of them any credit...

The housekeeper then informed him that the charming Mr Wickham was escorting the ladies north on his steed, riding outside to protect the ladies.

Darcy swallowed the curse that threatened to leap out of his mouth. It would not do to swear in front of his housekeeper. It would have to do that his tongue had slipped in front of Mr Gardiner. A man who probably had heard worse in his days...

He went to the church next door to investigate if Mr Wickham was employed there and assure himself that no bans had been read. Georgiana had stayed the allotted days to call herself a resident of Ramsgate.   
To his immense relief, no such request had been made.

Next, he stopped at the jewellery shop. He wanted to ask if any wedding rings had been purchased lately when he spotted a familiar necklace for sale that made his blood run cold. He waited his turn and inquired after the necklace.  
It had been purchased from a genteel lady who had fallen under bad times. 

“I am familiar with the necklace. If I am correct in my assessment, it belongs to a dear friend of mine. Could you describe the lady?”

“Certainly, Mr Darcy. I was in the shop when the lady entered and assessed the piece. She had dark hair, fine clothes but not too fine if you know what I mean. She had blue eyes and was tall for a female. About five and twenty I believe and uncommonly beautiful.”

“Thank you, I believe that is my friend. I would like to purchase the necklace and give it back to her.”

“Certainly, Mr Darcy.” 

The silversmith was all smiles. The necklace was expensive but not priced at its full worth. Mr Darcy should know, it was his mother’s emerald necklace. The insurance price was much higher.   
Buying back his own sister's necklace left a foul taste in his mouth but it could not be helped. Until he found his sister, he was wary of raising suspicion of anything untoward to have happened.

XxX

Having exhausted all the information he could glean from Ramsgate. Darcy had a light meal, made the kitchen refill his saddlebags and headed off towards London. He was not going there but the northern road. He calculated where they were most likely to have the first rest and set out. 

His first stop was Faversham as he believed they may have stopped there to change the horses.   
None remembered a Miss Darcy, a Mrs Young nor a Mr Wickham when he tried his last resort, Miss Bennet. Yes, the host of the hostelry had answered. A Miss Bennet had stopped with her companion, younger sister and an out riding vicar. They had had tea and changed the horses.   
It was good news as it meant that he was on the right track. The bad news was that they had more than a days head start. He would be able to catch up some of it if pushed himself and his horse to the limit but it would not be enough. He would have to leave his horse and change horses himself but he would wait until he was closer to London and could have his horse returned to his own mews. While he was there, he had to send an unpleasant note to Mr Gardiner about his niece who might not be who he thought she was.  
She would not be the first young lady to fool a doting uncle...

XxX

Darcy had not many options but following the one lead he had. Riding back to Pemberley on the various steeds he was able to hire. Sometimes he was fortunate to find an inn or a watering house they had visited, more often than not he stopped at the wrong one. He had not the time to stop at every godforsaken hostelry on the Great Northern Road. He would have to be content with knowing he was on the right track...

XxX

Mr Darcy turned off the Great Northern Road at Heath and proceeded towards Chesterfield where he stopped and rested before the last leg home. He prayed he would find Georgiana at home with an annoying little friend. The alternative, he was not able to contemplate.  
His appetite was none existent yet he knew he needed sustenance to keep on going. Not too far left now, it was a mantra he kept in his head, not far left to go until he could relax, sleep in his own bed and definitely not ride his horse for a week judging by his sore unmentionable muscles.

In his heart, he could not believe Georgiana would be so stupid as to engage in an illicit affair. The perils of such actions had perhaps not been discussed explicitly but she knew simple right from wrong. She had been raised and tutored by the best governesses and the best masters money could buy. She had even attended the Mrs Hewlets seminar for young ladies for two years. They taught behaviour, propriety and etiquette from the morning until the evening. No, he was certain he could trust his sister not to do something really foolish. Besides, she was too shy and reserved to let anyone get close to her. 

A niggling devil in his mind kept whispering in his ear that his own reticent father had been taken in by the younger Mr Wickham.  
The senior Mr Darcy had by no means been blind to Wickham’s faults but made the excuses of youth and liveliness of spirit. Excuses that did not apply to himself, he was not afforded any leniency towards his follies. Being it women, cards or debt, he was expected to behave like a Darcy.   
He had discovered early that behaving like a Darcy was a set of rules that he but few others were expected to live by.  
His father had even overlooked the Cornish gentleman's daughter Wickham had met in London and seduced at the tender age of five and ten. He had blamed the girl as a light skirt but Darcy had his doubts...  
What was her name again?  
An infuriated father had turned up on the doorstep of Darcy House in London, demanding compensation by a hasty marriage. The father was under the belief that it was the young Mr Darcy who had done the infamous deed, not Mr Wickham.   
Fortunately, he could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had not been him, ruining a gentleman's daughter in London. Apart from never having laid eyes on the girl, he had been on his yearly Easter visits to Rosings after losing a rowing competition between Eton and Westminster. He had been away for weeks, proving his innocence in the deflowering debacle that ensued. Never before nor after, had he felt such a relief over a visit to his formidable aunt.  
Miss Perranuthnoe, finally he remembered her name.   
He wondered what had become of her?  
George Wickham certainly had not suffered much, despite having bandied his name around in a sordid affair of the flesh.  
He was a master of expressing his remorse and grovel before his godfather. Admitting to having used his son's name to gain entrance to finer society. His earnest looks made his father let him off with a scrape soon forgotten. Mr Perranuthnoe demands of marriage had quieted down once he realised it was the steward’s son, not the master's son who had seduced his young daughter.

Mr Darcy forced himself back to the present. He was bone-tired but had to push on the last ten miles or so. It was getting dark...

XxX

Finally! Pemberley was in his eye-sight. The horse must have felt his rider's change of attitude because it speeded up the last leg as a new bout of energy had suddenly appeared.  
Rounding the portico, Mr Darcy slid off his horse and threw the reins to a stable hand that came running to his aid.  
Mrs Reynolds came to the door with wide eyes.

“Mr Darcy? We were not expecting you...”

“No, I suppose you were not. Please, follow me to my study.”

“Of course, but let me get someone to take your coat and order some repast. You look exhausted.”

“I have just eaten and I have not got the time yet. Please just do as I say.”

Mrs Reynolds, who had known the master since he was four years old, understood the gravity behind his words and was not offended. She hurried after her master, her breast filling up with dread that something sinister had happened. She gauged his apparel. He was covered in road dust from head to tow and his attire was so wrinkled it looked as if he had slept in them for days. His jaws bore the stubbles of days without a decent shave and he had dark shadows under his eyes.

Mr Darcy closed the door to his study as soon as she set foot inside.

“Is Georgiana here?”

“No, is she not with you in London?”

“Have you heard from her lately?”

“I have heard from Mrs Young. They were expected yesterday but sent an express that they had been detained in town. I anticipate they will be here in a few days. Honestly, I thought they had not yet left London...”

“They never came to London. Do you know of a lady called Mrs Gardiner, Mr Lambert's sister?”

“Yes, she married a tradesman from Hertfordshire that has since done very well for himself. Mr Lambert is very proud of his sister.”

“Have you heard mentioning of a niece, Miss Bennet from Hertfordshire?”

“Not specifically no. He has mentioned that a sister of Mrs Gardiner's husband married up into the gentry. A squire from Hertfordshire but I cannot remember his name if I have even heard it...”

“Thank you, Mrs Reynolds. I have to be off. There is only one place I can imagine them off to and that is happening over my dead body.”

“You very well may be, Sir. If you do not take the time to eat and rest. Look outside, it is nearly pitch black and you are in no shape or form to ride out at this hour.” 

Only the close acquaintance of a lifetime could let Mrs Reynolds get away with such a speak towards her master and employer.   
Mr Darcy understood that when she overstepped her boundaries, it was because it was blatantly necessary. He took no offence but acquiesced to her superior demands. Ordered a meal for two hours hence and requested bathwater as quickly as possible.  
A night within the comforts of Pemberley would do him good.

A footman aided him to undress, his valet was still in London.  
He had to formulate a plan. Chances were that no matter where he went, Georgiana would not be there. It was like searching for a needle in the haystack, not knowing which stack it was hidden... He could not give in to his misgivings though. Until Georgiana was found, there was hope. She was a sensible girl. According to Miss Bennet's uncle, so was Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Independent, he had called her. Darcy had immediately pictured a rambunctious hoyden but he guessed there were other forms of independence.  
He was an independent man himself, he needed no one to guide him to do the right thing nor run his affairs. He answered to no one at the end of the day but his own conscience. He knew quite a lot of nobles which did not fit this description...


	7. At The Scottish Border

Chapter 7 At The Scottish Border

“Go! Quickly, I will stall him.”

XxX

Mr Darcy came riding into Gretna Green. The first shop you came upon was the blacksmith's shop. It could not hurt to check although the chances were zero to none, he admitted to himself. 

Tying off his horse to the post, he espied a young lady standing outside the forge. Perhaps she was waiting for a fiancé that never came? She looked nervous and fidgeted with her skirts. Her head was bowed to the ground so he could not see her face until she stepped in his path.

“Mr Darcy, fancy meeting you here of all places."

Could this be the niece of Mr Gardiner? In that case, he had urgent business with the blacksmith.

“Please, step aside, madam. I have business with the blacksmith that cannot be delayed.”

“Your manners have not improved since we last met. Why am I not surprised?”

The impertinent little... Accusing him, that always behaved with the epitome of polite gentlemanly conduct, of bad manners? She who had aided a five and ten year old girl to elope with a degenerate, twice her age! Darcy reined in his temper and tried to respond politely.

“Do I know you?”

“We have met, yet I doubt you remember me. I am one of those ladies you have disparaged at an event in town. I guess there are too many of us for you to account for them all.”

The provocation was tremendous, he kept his countenance but his voice lowered to a threatening level.

“I am sorry if I unintentionally have injured you but I need to talk to the blacksmith about a matter of great importance. Would you please move away from the door. I promise to make amends to you, as soon as this matter has been resolved.”

“I think not, you may have to wait in line like a mere mortal. The blacksmith is occupied with a customer. He will be out when the deed is done...”

Mr Darcy pushed Elizabeth aside as the newly wedded couple emerged from the shop. Elizabeth huffed but no one was paying any attention to her embarrassing predicament.

“Georgiana?” Mr Darcy cried in despair.

Georgiana looked radiant with a brilliant smile that lit up her countenance.

“Dear brother, it is Mrs Wickham now as of the last minute or so...”

Mr Wickham smiled, it is a wide grin he would have liked to wipe off his face.

“I leave it to you to inform our other relatives, Darcy. Please share our happy news as you see fit. I am married to the brightest jewel in the British empire.”

Darcy felt his blood boil to levels never before reached. He had no time to think before he had closed the gap between himself and the devil himself. His fist rose of its own volition, he struck before any conscious thought could surface.

What happened next felt like it unfolded much slower. Georgiana's scream. “No!” Leaping forward to place herself between her beloved brother and the reprobate until his fist connected with her temple.  
Georgiana crumbled to the ground like an autumn leaf. Unconscious with a bruise blooming as he watched in horror.   
People came running from nowhere and everywhere. Pushing him away from his little sister, shielding her as he was the one she needed protection from. It all was a blurry mess of regret and unfathomable repercussions.   
He could do nothing but watch Wickham carry his oblivious sister to their carriage and drive off.  
He saw the head of her companion, Mrs Young glancing nervously at him before the door closed on the carriage.  
Five men were holding him down as the carriage drove away. The massive blacksmith was sitting atop his chest. Still, he fought like a tiger. A rib cracked but he paid it no mind but forged on. Not until the last of the dust had settled after their carriage did he relent his valiant effort of throwing off his restricting opponents.

“You bloody idiots that were my sister the blaggard absconded with.”

“Not your sister anymore, chap,” the blacksmith retorted. “I believe it was Mrs Wickham you just knocked into oblivion.”

“It was a mistake, you nitwit. I was aiming for the lothario you just married her off to. She is an heiress with a substantial dowry. He is not going to see a penny of that now, I can assure you that the monies are safe from miscreants like him. My good father made sure of that...  
If he had agreed to exchange my sister for the strumpet over there who I suspect played a vital role in her abduction. I would have paid you and him handsomely for your troubles but you had to fight the only decent man in miles.”

The petit brunette was frowning at him from a safe distance. She was nothing to him, he would gladly have sacrificed everyone he knew if it meant saving his sister.

“You are cocky for a man lying buried under five stout men, I must say.”

“Yes, why do you not remove yourself from my person so that I can get up and rescue my sister from a rogue.”

“Will you be any threat to the lovely young lady your new brother left behind?”

“None what so ever. I do not even know who she is.”

One by one, the men arose from his person. Darcy drew a deep breath but immediately regretted it. Yes, his rib was definitely broken.

The blacksmith who had caused the injury had the decency to aid him to a standing position. He would have tried to brush off the dust had not bending been such a pain in the arse. Wait, something was still poking his chest. He felt inside his breast pocket and found his money clip, embedded in his chest. Once removed, the pain relented somewhat. He may not have broken the rib after all. That would certainly make the ride home more pleasant...

Finally able to bend, he did try to right his attire but it was of little use. His time would be much better spent, chasing his sister and the lowlife she had wedded. To do that, he must know where they were headed. He had not given up, he would never give up...

His eyes roamed the street and came to rest on the brunette who was still scowling at him. He needed her help to locate his sister, he better play nice or as pleasant as one needed when dealing with a criminal.

“Elizabeth Bennet, I presume?”

“Since my elder sister is not present, the established mode would be for you to call me Miss Bennet.”

He had not the time for a temperamental, nit-picking female.  
“Would you be so kind as to tell me where I can find my sister, Miss Bennet?”

“Why would I do that, Mr Darcy? So that you can knock her out a second time if she has even regained her consciousness...”

“No, but you would staunchly protect a reprobate that has married a five and ten year old child. Who, by the bye, left you in Gretna Green to fend for yourself...”

“I can perfectly understand the urgency that made them forget me. You have that in common with Mr Wickham as I can tell you do not recognise me.”

Fine! Darcy untied his horse and mounted. Waiting patiently for the obstinate, headstrong girl to walk in a direction he could follow.   
Soon enough, she started to walk towards the church. Darcy let his mount follow at a lazy pace. She looked timidly at him while they passed Gretna Hall. She speeded up into a run but he followed easily on his steed. Exasperated, she drew to a halt and swung towards him.

“What are you about, Mr Darcy? Why are you following me? Do not come any closer or I will scream for help. With the stellar impression you have left on the fine people of Gretna Green. I suggest you keep your distance...”

“I just want to see my sister. You are simply a means to that goal. I am following you because I believe you are headed towards wherever my sister is at.”

The horse took a step closer to the infuriating lady by his own volition. Miss Bennet took a step backwards with wide open eyes that were not directed at him. It dawned on him that she was afraid of the horse. He needed her cooperation, it might be wise to dismount and put himself between her and his intimidating mount.  
She made a decision, turned and kept on walking. She turned left at the old road to Glasgow and continued towards Springfield.  
Darcy knew there was a hostelry in Springfield. They must have rented rooms there, he was sure enough to let his company know his thoughts. He did not need her anymore.

“Do you have any concept of what you have been an accomplice to?”

“Of course! I have aided two people that love each other very much to be able to live their happily ever after, despite the young ladies boorish brother.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. It was not untrue but neither was it exactly accurate but he had put her on the spot and she had answered. Perhaps a little hasty.

“Happily? What are they going to live on? Air castles and out watered soup? They have no money!”

“Mr Wickham is a vicar. I am sure that you have a parish on your estate you could grant your new brother.” 

“I have two of which neither is vacant. My uncle has two and my aunt has one. The latter had a vacancy this spring as her old parson sadly passed. She did not give the living to Mr Wickham. Do you want to know why?”

“I suppose it is none of my business but I have a feeling you will tell me regardless. Please lower your voice as you do, Mr Darcy. There is nothing wrong with my hearing.”

Mr Darcy stepped closer and lowered his voice as she had requested but he offered little leniency in the matter.

“She could not because Mr Wickham was never ordained. He never finished his studies. Five years ago when my father passed. He came to me proclaiming he was not fit for the church. I could not agree more. I tend to choose gentlemen for the livings I have in my power to give. Rakes and gamblers do not fit the description...  
Wickham thought the law was more to his liking but believed the thousand pounds he had already been bequeathed in my father’s will was insufficient to complete his studies. I gave him three thousand pounds in lieu of the value of the living if he agreed to savage any connection between us. Do you know why?”

Elizabeth shook her head in denial.

“Mr Wickham is the son of Pemberley’s former steward and my father’s godson.”

Elizabeth thought she knew what was coming and quickly interjected.

“I already knew that. He told me so himself.”

Mr Darcy turned and positioned himself in front of Elizabeth. She could not proceed forward but neither could she step backwards. Mr Darcy’s horse was on a loose rein and directly behind her.

“Did he also tell you that we grew up together? That he has been connected to the Darcy estate since infancy. Did he add that he went to Eton and Cambridge together with me at my father’s expense?”

“He did.”

“Since he has been so honest, I guess he told you about his other proclivities? Gambling? Opium abuse? Whoring?”

He should not have said the latter. Her eyes were trained on the ground but he could hear her gasp. He was a brute...  
In addition to his first offence, he registered that he was standing to close. He could smell the apple water in her hair. He stepped aside and continued his walk towards the inn in Springfield. It must be where they were heading but he could not let the matter rest. With a softer voice, he continued. It was important that she knew what she had let herself in on. He did not perceive any malice in her but she was excessively naive. 

“I am certain you thought it a romantic notion to elope to Gretna Green but you have no idea of the consequences. Our uncle is the Earl of Matlock, he will dispute this marriage without any input from me. These anvil weddings are difficult to prove and easily ignored. My sister will be ruined but that might not matter to his Lordship. He may want to ride off the scandal and foist her off on a deprived and broke Lord when the rumours have died down.  
Her dowry will not be released. There are certain conditions to her dowry being paid which include the need for both mine and my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s signature. Both must agree to the marriage before the funds will be disbursed.   
The Colonel is Lord Matlock's second son. He will not go against his own father and head of the family...  
Furthermore, she has no settlement papers, no security for her future.”

“On this account, you are most certainly wrong, Mr Darcy. I saw the settlement papers myself. She is amply provided for in her marriage and if she should be so unfortunate to survive her husband. Mr Wickham saw to that. He was very particular in the matter.”

Mr Darcy laughed mirthlessly. He could well believe Wickham produced the papers. He was, however, confident they had to be false. Mr Wickham had no money, plenty of debt and moneylenders off the black market were breathing down his back.

“Did you see the papers?”

“I did.”

“Did you note the name of the attorney that he had used?”

“I did. It was an Ambrosio Munuc.”

“Very clever, I must say. Have you ever read the Monk by Matthew Lewis, Miss?”

“It is Miss Bennet and no, I have not. My father does not approve of gothic novels, Mr Darcy.”

“I have read it, the main character is a monk named Ambrosio. You may know that munuc is the old English term for a monk, do you not?”

“I do not see the relevance to the matter at hand, Mr Darcy. My reading habits are varied, even without the most sordid, despicable books you could find.”

“I assure you, there is no attorney in England nor the British isles with name Ambrosio Munuc because Wickham does not have any funds to provide. I had him investigated after the living of Kympton became vacant two years ago. Wickham had the audacity to request the living he was intended for after I paid him. I denied him, of course, but I did wonder how he could have spent four thousand pounds in three years with nothing to show for it. He never read the law, he never attended another day at Cambridge. He spent his fortune on gentleman's apparel, gaming hells and houses of ill repute. He has since worked up a debt of several thousand pounds, much of it to questionable money lenders. There is no settlement, no security, no future for my sister with this man. Yet, she is married to him. No consummation is not a cause for annulment. The best she can hope for is a divortium mensa a thoro, separation of bed and board. She will never remarry as long as Wickham lives.”

They had reached the Kings Head Inn. Both went silent as Mr Darcy inquired about his sister’s whereabouts. He was informed that the doctor was currently examining her. The physician had just arrived so it might take a while until she was ready to see anyone but the host could calm Mr Darcy. His sister had been alert and had complained about the fuss her dear husband was making for a mere trifle. 

By the way the innkeeper was looking at Mr Darcy, it would suggest he had heard the full sordid tale. At least the part of who had knocked her out. Darcy was fortunate he was such a wealthy man, the innkeeper did not dare to voice any accusations. He wisely kept his peace as he suspected the husband to be a little short on cash which the brother most certainly was not. 

He offered the couple his private parlour and asked for refreshments to be sent, forthwith.

Darcy and Elizabeth kept their peace until they were escorted to the first floors private parlour and left to their own devices. Elizabeth then wasted little time to assure herself Mr Darcy had not meant what he implied.

“You cannot murder Mr Wickham! You should release her dowry so that they have something to live on. It is Georgiana's inheritance.”

“And let Wickham squander it away?”

“I know it cannot be easy to see your little sister married. A sister left in your care who you practically raised but she has made her choice. You should try to be supportive, not work against them. As you said yourself, the deed is done. There is nothing you can do about it now. You should put your own feelings aside and...”

Mr Darcy had had enough and rudely interrupted her tirade of what she thought he should do. 

“How could you suppose to know my sentiments? What do you know about life? Having been reared on a farm in Hertfordshire, sheltered and cuddled until you learned to think too highly of your own discernment.”

“I think too highly of myself? I may have lived a sheltered life but if that is to save me from being an arrogant, conceited, deprived of every feeling oaf. I am quite satisfied.”

“So this is what you think of me? All this you have concluded without even knowing me. In fact, until this day we have not even met...”

“We have! I was the one you disparaged at Dr Charles Livingstone's dinner party in London. Do you not remember? Elizabeth lowered her voice to imitate Mr Darcy. “She is tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no mood to give consequence to young ladies who have been slighted by other men.”

A vague recollection of a dinner party at Charles Livingstone’s house dawned in his memory. A petite unremarkable brunet and a foul mood. He had just returned from Ramsgate after leaving Georgiana in her rented house with her companion. The whole ordeal had unsettled him but he could not put his finger on why. It had left him with a headache that had only worsened after the intense negotiations with Mr Gardiner. His temples had throbbed and prisms danced before his eyes when Bingley had pestered him towards levity.  
Charles had suggested he should engage a girl to dance but he had found the stranger somewhat plain in a fashionable but not particularly adorned gown. It was like she had done the deed but not put in any effort towards the result. What had been his excuse? She was ordinary? Common? Tolerable?

“You deprived my sister of her future because I wounded your vanity?” Mr Darcy bellowed. All his restraints went out of the window when she offered her explanation. He advanced towards her, not caring if she felt intimidated by his looming presence mere inches from her person. 

Elizabeth felt the impact of his words keenly. What could she answer that did not seem conceited or untrue? She wracked her brain for other reasons. She could not be that shallow and supercilious? She, who prided herself with discernment and an uncanny ability to sketch character?

He could see the moment understanding hit her. Elizabeth’s eyes flickered while filling up with tears. She let out a whoosh of air and clutched her stomach like she was in pain. Her lips pressed together. He knew she was holding back a sob or several.  
It was not his problem. She was an insignificant country maiden, far away from home. She was not his responsibility...

What would he have done, had it been Georgiana who had done such a despicable error of judgment? His stomach churned. The question was, what would he wish another gentleman would do if it was Georgiana and the situation was reversed.

Elizabeth’s eyes were trained on the floor. She could not stem the flow of tears that ran down her cheeks nor check the sobs.  
She heard Mr Darcy groan. He probably thought she was putting on a show to garner his sympathy.   
She turned on her heel and ran out the door. Whereto, she had no idea. She had to get away from the situation, from him, that had shattered her world, her belief in herself. Until this moment she never knew herself...

Elizabeth ran blindly out of the Kings Head Inn, turned right down the street towards the footpath that led to the Carlisle road, the toll booth and the bridge over the River Sark. She had to get away from Springfield, Gretna Green and everything it represented. From him, that had shown her, her true self. Ripped the blindfold off her eyes quite literally.

Her feet pounded the dirt like drumsticks until she hit wooden planks beneath her. Elizabeth drew to a halt at the top of the bridge. Clutched the railing with both hands and heaved for breath.   
She had to get a hold of herself, she needed to think clearly. She could not spend another moment in Mr Wickham's presence. He had played her like the fool she was. Poor Georgiana, to be saddled with such a man for the rest of her life!  
Inquiring if Mr Darcy could convey her home was out of the question. She could not, after what she had done...  
Wretched, wretched mistake. How was she ever going to countenance ruining Georgiana's life, perhaps forever?  
Even worse, was she standing here feeling sorry for herself when Georgiana was bound to a rake for life? She was the worst kind of hypocrite, the most abominable friend who ever lived. She deserved standing here, on the bridge across the Scottish border with no means of getting home. 

Elizabeth searched her skirt. There, in a clip, hang her small pouch of coins. She emptied the content into the palm of her hand. Thirteen pounds and eight shillings. It kind of left her with the choice of eating or taking the coach home...  
How much was the coach going to cost her? She had no idea, she had never taken the mail coach but she had heard it was expensive.

It had taken a week to travel the four hundred miles from Ramsgate to Gretna Green. The mail coach would be quicker as it travelled through the night as well but four days in a carriage without food was difficult. If she even had the funds to pay for the entire way. Perhaps she could walk... Fortunately, it was shorter to Meryton than Ramsgate who was situated in Kent while Meryton was situated north of London.   
She would save more than a hundred miles compared to Ramsgate which was not really comforting when there were almost three hundred miles left.  
If she could walk twelve miles a day or even fifteen if the weather cooperated and there was not too much uphill. She could be home in less than a month. It was doable, as long as she was not beseeched by highwaymen or footpads. It dawned on her that she could not follow the road but should keep out of sight from anyone sinister travelling on the road. Walking in rugged terrain was not the same as a flat road free of twigs, roots and shrubbery.

XxX

Darcy watched the chit turn around and run out the door in a flourish of white skirts with not a thought to donned a shawl or a cloak in the evening breeze. He sat down and rested his head in his hands for a few seconds but restlessness brought him back on his feet. His legs took him to the window on their own volition. He watched as Miss Bennet rounded the corner, down the road to the footpath. Good riddance...

He paced the room. 

Should he not own some of the blame as well? He should have taken better care of his sister. Watched her himself. Not leave it to a widow he did not know well enough to trust with his dearest possession. Did not know beyond a slight acquaintance. He should not have trusted her references. He could have interviewed a few of the names on her resume, not assume she was honest. Hell and damnation, he could not leave the whippersnapper to fend for herself. If he was her guardian, he would want someone to aid her. She was obviously distraught beyond reason. Running like the hellion she was. He had promised Mr Gardiner that he would deliver her safely at home...

Mr Darcy walked briskly out of the inn and turned the corner Miss Bennet had disappeared around, a few moments earlier. She was, as he thought, headed towards the footpath, well ahead of him. Was she heading for the river?  
Darcy broke into a run. It was not a gentlemanly activity but he had no chance of keeping her within sight by any other means. The hoyden had just proved that she could run like she had wolves chasing her.

He could barely see her as she turned left at the end of the footpath. He was right, she was heading towards the river, or the Carlisle road which was the same thing really...

To his immense relief, she was still standing on the bridge when he rounded shrubbery at the end of the footpath. Brazing her hands on the railing, looking over the edge like she was contemplating to hoist herself over the edge and disappear into the murky waters. Her hair had fallen out of its pins during her wild run. Tumbling down her back in soft waves while some had dropped down her front, concealing her countenance from his view.   
She was shivering or crying, it was hard to tell the difference.  
He tried to approach her with stealth. He did not want to frighten her into doing something untoward. 

Mr Darcy was in the range of a few yards when one of the boards on the bridge squeaked under his feet. He cursed his bad luck as she veered her upper torso towards him but did not let go of her fierce grip on the railing. Her knuckles were turning white.  
He let his gaze travel to her countenance. She was ghostly pale with angry red streaks, trailing down her cheeks. The red accentuated her wide emerald green eyes that were glittering with unshed tears. He stilled as he heard her sharp intake of breath.

Staring each other down, none of them dared speak albeit for entirely different reasons.  
Elizabeth averted her gaze first. She bowed her head to the ground and gathered her hands in front of her, wringing them until the skin was raw.

They spoke at the same time, making her glance up at him quickly and gesture for him to continue. He should let her go first. It was the gentlemanly thing to do but she was no lady...

“You go first,” he offered. His gentleman’s education ran too deep to overlook, even for a country bumpkin.

“I will not trouble you any more, Sir.”

“Thank you, I doubt there is any more trouble left to stir. Unless you want to come to Pemberley and burn down my house.”

“I deserved that and more, Sir.”

‘Why did she have to agree with him? He had been abominably rude and she had taken it like someone lying down. He had come to expect a witty retort from the yokel. He acknowledged the contradiction in his musings and almost missed what she said next. She could be soft-spoken when she wished it...’

“I will not importune you nor your family any further. Please allow me to fetch my valise in my room at Kings Head and I will be off your hands.”

“Are you married?”

“It can be nothing to you if I am or not.”

Her impertinence seemed to have rallied.

“I wonder how a gently bred female is going to travel home without a proper chaperone, hence the question. Are you married?”

“No...”

“How had you planned to reach Ramsgate, on foot?”

“My home is not in Ramsgate. I travelled there with my aunt and uncle. I live in Longbourn village near Meryton, a small town in Hertfordshire.”

“And how are you planning to travel to Longbourn?”

“If I cannot afford the mail coach, I intend to walk.”

“Walk hundreds of miles?”

“Yes... I am very fond of walking.”

“No one is that fond of walking, it will take days and even weeks to get there. Not to forget all the perils along the way.”

“I should be perfectly safe, Sir. I am barely tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt anyone, you said so yourself. I have very limited funds. If any at all, after I have paid the fare on the coach. Nothing worth stealing...”

Darcy groaned and ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. He could have told her that the clothes on her back were enough, for someone who was starving, to kill her. It could probably feed a family with a fortnight of bread. But he did not...

“Do you know how much it is for the mail coach, Sir?”

“Yes, it is a penny a mile. More expensive than private carriages but they are much faster and you save the expense of a room at the inn.”

“Oh, I should have enough then. Gooday, Mr Darcy.”

The imp curtsied and started to walk back to the inn to collect her belongings.   
Mr Darcy raised his eyes heavenward for a moment, thanking the almighty for not sending her over the rail before he got to her.

“Where do you think you are going?” He called after her retreating back.

She turned to look at him with an exasperated countenance. 

“To The Kings Head to gather my belongings.”

“Obstinate, headstrong, arrogant, conceited...” Mr Darcy muttered under his breath as he caught up with the insufferable woman.

“You cannot walk back to Longbourn, neither can you travel alone on the mail coach. I will ask the innkeeper if he knows anyone who could chaperone you back to London. We will all travel together to Pemberley where I will go home with Georgiana. You and your chaperone should manage the rest of your journey back to London in my carriage.   
My carriage will take you to Mr Gardiner’s house. I suppose he can be trusted to convey you back to Longbourn?”

“I cannot ask it of you. I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you are not but it is what I would have wanted for Georgiana should she happen to be in the same situation. Mr Gardiner is a good man. I promised him when I met him in London that I would bring you safely home. I am doing this for him as I know not your father. I will probably be introduced to him this autumn.  
My friend, Mr Bingley, has leased a property in Meryton called Netherfield. If I decide to go... Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, Netherfield abuts my father's estate,” Elizabeth replied miserably. She was not to have a long reprieve before her folly would be flaunted in front of her.


	8. The Long Journey Home

Chapter 8 The Long Journey Home

Miss Bennet walked silently by his side. He was glad she was able to keep up with his long strides. His need to see his sister was overriding everything else. The physician must have finished his exam while he was busy chasing after the young lady beside him.

He needed answers. How could this have happened? Why?  
He felt like he was floating in a bottomless void where everything he had known had been shredded to pieces. He needed to assemble his world back in one piece, starting with his sister.

Back at Kings Head, the innkeeper escorted him to his sister room. She lay on the bed whilst Wickham sat on a chair next to it, holding his sister’s hand. Her head was tilted towards the wretched man, her horrible bruise glaring towards him. Wickham was in his shirtsleeves and waistcoat having doffed his coat. The familiarity he took with his sister irked him. He should be sticking to propriety before a maiden, no matter if they had married.

The newlyweds were staring adoringly into each other’s eyes, too entranced to notice his entrance.   
Something was not right, he could not put his finger on it but it puzzled him. He stepped forward to make his presence known, crossed the room to the vacant side of Georgiana's bed and prevailed awkwardly until they noticed him.  
Mr Wickham stood up but did not relent his hold on Georgiana's hand. Darcy pretended it did not rile him up. Firstly, he needed to check on Georgiana's health. Wickham would have to wait.

Darcy sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully traced the bruise that had turned from angry red to a blueish hue.

“I am so sorry, Georgiana. I never meant to hit you. Are you well? What did the doctor say?”

“I am well, brother. I know you did not mean to hit me but you were trying to punch my husband which is not much better.”

“The physician ordered her to rest for a few days and avoid excitement. She was out for several minutes...” Mr Wickham interjected with a fair warning in his tone.

Darcy wondered if that had been the physician words or if it was something Wickham had conveniently conjectured to save his own hide. He would have to talk to the physician for himself to confirm what would delay the speedy return home he had imagined to embark on. He nodded absentmindedly to Wickham to acknowledge the underlying threat. He would not upset his sister. Yet, he needed answers.

“As you are both in the room, I would like some answers to how this,” he waved his hand between them, “came about.”

Miss Bennet, who had halted on the threshold, was slipping away unnoticed. He tried to catch her eyes but her gaze was locked on the floor. The door closed silently behind her.  
He took Georgiana's free hand and stroked the back of it absentmindedly. She had long slender hands, perfect for playing the pianoforte...

“What were you thinking, Georgiana? To marry such a man.”

“The man is present,” Wickham remarked dryly.

Darcy paid him no mind, he would not let himself be riled. His aim was not to upset Georgiana but to get to the bottom of what had happened.

“What man is that, William? A handsome vicar who has fought his way up from a stewards son. Is that your objection, the inferiority of his birth?”

“It is one but by no means the only objection nor the most grave. I know him better than you, we grew up together.”

“You knew him better as a child but I claim the greater knowledge as an adult.”

“What will you live on?”

“I have my dowry. We may buy a small estate or Wickham may find a living.”

“Your dowry will not be released. It needs both mine and Richard's signature, I can safely say that there is very little chance of either of us complying. Besides, Wickham is not ordained. He never finished his education at Cambridge.”

“I did.” A voice added calmly from the other side of the bed. They both restrained themselves in Georgiana's presence it would seem.

“I investigated you when you requested the living in Kympton. The living I had already paid you three thousand pounds in lieu of its value...”

“I had not at the time. I enlisted in 09, after you denied me the living in Kympton. My troop was sent on the Walcheren expedition to secure the port of Flushing. I was wounded and brought back to Ramsgate where I met the vicar of the St Laurence church. I had a leg wound and could not walk for months. I spent a lot of time talking to the vicar and returned to Cambridge when my wounds had healed to finish my ecclesial education. I was ordained this summer and are now waiting for a living to become available. My debts are paid. Although I came back with a wounded leg, I had made some money.”

Darcy glanced up at Mr Wickham, to gauge if he was being honest. He knew better than to trust that Wickham spoke the truth. He was a master of twisting small snippets of facts to make a believable story.  
Wickham had a long scar on his left cheek to undermine his story, yet Darcy had not detected any limping when he had carried Georgiana to the carriage.

“You should show him the scar on your leg, George. I can tell my brother is finding it hard to believe you.”

“How come you know he has a scar, Georgiana?” Darcy scrutinised his sister who was blushing furiously whilst stealing furtive glances towards Wickham. The truth dawned on him. The familiarity between the two should have alerted him but it had not.   
He had fervently believed in the chastity of his sister until this moment.

“You need not answer, I can see it in your eyes. I need some air...”

Darcy let go of his sister’s hand, rose and walked swiftly out of the room, down the stairs and out into the garden.  
He did not stop until he had distanced himself sufficiently from the King's Head's open windows. He had an unquenchable need to rant and curse. Preferably combined with hitting something hard.  
He smashed his fist into an innocent tree, it hurt him more than it injured the trunk of the majestic oak. He raked his hand through his hair. The answers he had gotten hitherto was not to his liking. The claims Wickham had made would take days if not weeks to confirm. He did not bear thinking of Georgiana's answers...  
Could Miss Bennet have been aware of all this? He should have questioned her further...  
He was trapped here now. He could not forsake Georgiana, yet there was very little chance of saving her, except if she wanted to escape. He would make it happen, no matter what it took. If they should end up scorned and estranged from society for the rest of their lives, he would do it. If she would just let him...  
He needed to get his sister alone.

“Mr Darcy! Supper is being served in the common room if you would like some sustenance.”

Miss Bennet called out to him. She immediately turned and disappeared inside the inn.   
Darcy trudged after her but got waylaid on the steps by the physician who was about to head home.   
He thought Mrs Wickham would make a full recovery as long as she rested until the headache relented which included avoidance of any form of excitement. He would come back the next day to check on her but she had been aware and alert when she woke up which was a very good sign. The physician shook his hand and left with strict instruction of summoning him should he have any concerns or if Mrs Wickham's condition should deteriorate.

Mr Darcy continued into the inn but halted on the threshold in the common room. Wickham was sitting at the back of the room, dining with Mrs Young. Neither Georgiana nor Miss Bennet were with them. Not strange with the former and the latter mattered little to him.

Of course, Georgiana was not there. She was on bed rest... Darcy spun around on his heel and hastened to her room. His opportunity to speak to Georgiana alone had just presented itself on a silver platter. He took the stairs two steps at the time and hurried to her room. Knocked once and entered immediately.  
Georgiana was sleeping peacefully in her bed and did not awaken by his rather inconsiderate entrance. Darcy sat down on a chair drawn close to the bed. Indecisive for a moment until he gently spoke Georgiana's name. She did not stir. The thought of her being drugged hit him. Jostling her lightly, she woke up to his profound relief.

“Brother?” Georgiana blinked. 

“Yes, dearest. I am sorry to wake you but we need to talk.”

“Can it not wait?”

“I think not.”

Mr Darcy needed to act hastily, conscious their time might be limited.

“Tell me how a beautiful, intelligent girl like yourself, ended up married to a rake twice your age.”

“I love him, brother. He is so kind and generous. I knew exactly what I was doing when I went to him. I know what you are thinking, brother, but you could not be more wrong. Mr Wickham is an honourable man, it is I who deserve your scorn, not him.”

“I somehow doubt that very much.”

“I wish you could see him as I do.”

“I thank you, no!”

“Do you not believe in redemption, brother? Are we all doomed because we have committed a sin?”

“There are different kinds of sins.”

“I know all about George's sins. He has told me everything. I know about Miss Perranuthnoe, I know about the gambling and the debt. The vicar in St Laurence taught George to repent his sins and he was forgiven by the Lord. Are you above the Lord, Fitzwilliam?”

Darcy gave his sister an incredulous look with a deep frown between his eyebrows.

“Can you find it in your heart to give George a second chance? The mistakes he has made was in his youth, years passed. He has been to war, Fitzwilliam. Countenanced inconceivable horrors and come face to face with his own mortality. I believe it changes a man. George has changed...”

It had not gone unnoticed that Georgiana had used his full name. Like his mother used to do when she was about to scold him.  
What should he do, how should he respond?

“I need to think, Georgiana. You know I do not make decisions lightly. I still do not understand how Mrs Young could allow it. For a gently bred girl who is not even out to accept callers.”

“She was once young and in love. Her father forced her to marry another man. A man that was well respected in their community of an ancient family. What good did it do her?   
He had gambled away their money. When the mine foreclosed there was nothing left to live on. The bank took their house and she had to go back and live with her parents bringing her young son with her and seek employment to pay for his education. She married a respectable man her parents approved of, instead of the love of her life. A man her parents did not approve of. The man joined the navy and came home with a lot of prize money. He is now a respectable banker whilst Mrs Young is an impoverished widow. Too poor to pay for her son's education, living with the shame of having her husband end his own life.   
I love him, William, with all my heart. I have loved him as long as I can remember. This is not a brief infatuation that will run its swift course and trickle out into nothingness. It is a life long commitment, for better or for worse. I wish it could have been done differently but I could not take the risk that you would force us to separate for all eternity. I could not bear it.”

“I have to ask you, Georgiana... If you would like to escape this marriage now, before it becomes wildly known. I would do anything in my power to save you. We could go to my estate in Scotland or travel to the continent. Please, Georgiana, reconsider what you want.”

“Have you been listening to anything I have said? Get out!  
You may join Miss Elizabeth, she is almost as high and might as you.”

Utterly dejected, before Georgiana worked herself up into a frenzy, Darcy backed out of the room.

“I heard shouting... Are you well, Georgiana?” Miss Bennet had snuck up on them. How did she do it? She was like a stealthy omnipresence you would rather not encounter who stuck to you like a burr. 

“I am excessively fatigued. Please, leave me to my rest.”

“Of course, Miss Darcy.” 

Miss Bennet left, he struggled with the want to do otherwise but he dared not upset his sister further. Reluctantly, he walked out the door and closed it. He stood still, leaning his head on the cold wooden surface. Hoping against reason that she would see the truth in his words and call him back. She did not, of course. Her sentiments had been expressed in no uncertain terms, yet he could not bring himself to believe it.  
He would abide his time and when she realised what a mistake she had made, he would be there to pick up the pieces. She was his sister, he could do no less.

XxX

The common room was crowded, it did not matter. Hunger was clawing at his insides. He had no idea how long it had been since he last had a meal. Not this day, perhaps not yesterday even. He felt faint and realised he had to eat, regardless of how little he wanted to.

Wickham and Young were no longer in the room which was a relief. He did not think he could stomach encountering the man nor his former employee. The former appellation would be a fact as soon as he had word with her. She was on her own, he washed his hands of her. What to do with the other lady in their party was another matter entirely, he would have to contemplate it later. He had never wished more to go back on his words as a gentleman but he had promised Mr Gardiner...

A darkened corner of the room was free of other occupants, he chose a seat and waited for the maid to take his order.  
A buxom young lady who tried to entice him with flirtatious looks and flaunting her assets in his face. He was appalled but guarded his expression as he was want to do. He needed no more enemies it would seem.  
His eyes were arrested by a glimpse at the opposite corner.  
Miss Bennet was dining alone, trying to make herself as invisible as possible by sitting in the shadows. He had only noticed her as she picked up her glass of wine and disappeared back into the shades.  
What wretched beings they were, albeit for entirely different reasons.

His meal was delivered and he ate, despite the nausea that threatened to return each swallowed morsel.   
He watched as Miss Bennet got up and tried to leave the room. A few of the early revellers were already deep into their cups. Lewd remarks were thrown at her. She hastened out of the room when one of the men rose to follow her. The innkeeper came to her aid and told the filthy man to sit back down and leave his customers in peace.  
He was glad, mostly because he had not needed to stir himself into action. She was not a woman in his good graces at the moment but she was Mr Gardiner's niece...

XxX

Georgiana was up and about the next day. Claiming her headache was gone and there were no reasons for her to linger in bed.   
Darcy was sceptical and thought she looked pale. His fussing was not well received though.   
In addition, he had to tolerate watching Wickham entering and exiting her room as it was his own which it was but he did not convince anyone he liked it.

He made sure to be close by, in case she changed her mind.   
She did not and the time for departure neared. He had no idea where they would go next. He hoped to take them to Pemberley where he could keep an eye on her and her sorry excuse of a husband but it was not to be.  
One morning, he woke up and the birds had flown, except they had not. At least, not all of them.

Miss Bennet was talking to the innkeeper, he could not help but overhear.

“Dear Sir, they cannot have left. I am a part of their party. Surely, they cannot have left without me?”

“They ordered their carriage last night, Madame. As far as I am concerned, they left and did not foot your bill. I hope you have the means to pay?”

“I have, how much do I owe you?”

Miss Bennet pulled out her pouch of coins and paid the innkeeper the fifteen shillings he was asking. The innkeeper looked relieved.

“Miss Bennet!”

The woman in front of him stopped and turned towards him with a shallow curtsy. He will let it pass this time.

“I will hire a carriage and a maid. We will go to London as I mentioned before.”

“But Sir...” She stepped closer and lowered her voice, her eyes flicking around. “We cannot travel together. We both know a maid is insufficient unless she is a respectable, married, gently bred lady, our reputations could be questioned.”

He wanted to ask her why she was suddenly concerned about reputation. He cared nothing for his own now that his sister was utterly ruined but he quelled the notion.

“I will not ride inside the carriage. I will ride my mount beside it though. To make sure you are safely delivered at your uncle’s house.”

“Thank you.” 

It was uttered so softly he barely heard her. He nodded and told her to pack up her belongings and be ready to leave within the hour.

He had spoken too soon. The carriage available for hire was an old wreck he would not have traversed on any road in, had there been another option to be had. With great misgivings, he paid the man and escorted Miss Bennet and her hired maid to the miserable donkey carriage. A mule was placed before the roofless, two-seated conveyance. Hopefully, he would be able to hire something better at their next stop...

He had expected some sort of uproar when Miss Bennet espied the carriage. Quite possibly a fervent denial of entering such despicable vehicle. She did not.  
She accepted the hand of the driver and tried to take up as little room as possible with three people crammed into two seats. She was petit but the driver was not, neither was the maid whom she kept between herself and the unwashed mule owner.

They had their first meal on a small watering hole with no carriages for rent. She would have to manage in the donkey cart until their next stop.  
Their progress was slow but he had to push on until they reached an inn where it was possible to find another, more appropriate, carriage. 

He had no more luck on their next stop, neither had they have any carriages vacant at the inn they stayed the night that followed.

The next morning dawned threatening with overcast skies and chilling winds.  
A cold front was sweeping in and by their first hour of travelling, the first raindrops hit their heads. Darcy pulled on his greatcoat. Miss Bennet put on a beautiful, greenish-grey pelisse. It would be ruined while it did nothing to keep her dry.  
To underline their misery, the mule was spooked by a lightning rendering through the air, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the ground. The mule made the run of its life. Finally, they were gaining some speed. Unfortunately, the carriage wheel could not withstand it and broke at the axel.   
He had to watch but could do nothing as it tipped to the side.  
Miss Bennet was on the tilting side. She fought to keep herself in the carriage but the wood was slick from the rain. In horror he watched her slip off the seat and tumble into a ditch before the carriage drew to a halt. It would take days to mend by the look of it.

The rain was now pouring down in buckets. He hastened to aid Miss Bennet to her feet. She denied having any injuries apart from her apparel. The pelisse was utterly ruined but she seemed able to walk.  
They left the driver and the maid who refused to travel any longer under such poor conditions. She would rather take the mail coach home than continue south. Mr Darcy paid her and the driver's fee with a little extra for the latter, to replenish him the cost to replace the broken wheel. He took the girl's carpetbag, tied it to his horse and offered his arm to Miss Bennet. They would have to walk to the nearest town of Lancaster. Their chances where much greater of finding both a decent carriage and a maid to accompany them, there.  
She lay a dainty glove covered hand on his arm but did not utilise him for support. Soon, she let it go entirely and continued beside him with a little distance between them.

They walked in silence for a while when the thought hit him. Where were his manners...

“Would you like to ride my horse for a while, Miss Bennet?”

She looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“No thank you, Mr Darcy. I would not deprive you of your steed. Please, feel free to utilise the beast yourself. I am used to walking, I do not mind stretching my legs.”

She was right, she was an excellent walker. He needed not to slow his strides much for her to keep up with him. Neither did she complain although she must be bruised and sore, not to forget wet...  
All in all a pleasant walking companion. She did not seem to need to fill the lull in the conversation with inane chatter which was a blessed relief in their current predicament. He was in no mood for pleasantries at the moment.

Hours of walking, hours that would add another day to their travelling plans, ended with the welcome sight of Lancaster Castle situated on top of an old Roman garrison. The town was known by the vernacular The Hanging Town after the Pendle Witch Trail in 1612 but had since gained a less sinister reputation.

Bedraggled, wet and tired they had entered the town's inn to be welcomed by a frown by the innkeeper who studied their light luggage until Mr Darcy pulled his money clip from his still dry inner pocket.  
It certainly put the innkeeper on his toes as he became almost obsequious in his dealings. They were offered their best rooms and ordered baths to warm up. Mr Darcy inquired after a maid they could bring with them south and a proper carriage. The innkeeper promised to find him both by dawn the next morning.  
Miss Bennet offered to pay her share which he took immediate offence at. She relented after he had scowled at her for about a minute and retired to her room.  
Two hours later he knocked on her door to escort her to supper in the common room. There was a private parlour but sequestering themselves from the other guests might lead to speculation he would rather not succumb himself to.  
Neither would he like a repetition of the lewdness Miss Bennet had suffered from at King’s Head in Springfield if he had taken the private room for himself alone.  
They had to get along for a few more days until he could deliver her safely to her esteemed uncle on Gracechurch Street.   
He would sojourn in London until it was time to visit Bingley's new estate in Hertfordshire. Trying to forget he had a sister...  
He was scowling, he knew it. His thoughts were not pleasant but there was no need for Miss Bennet to shiver in fright. She must know enough of him by now, not to fear his presence.  
He scrutinised his fellow dinner companion. She was quivering, he could see a droplet of sweat on her forehead. She could not be cold...  
A closer look at her attire revealed it was clinging to her person as it were still moist. He was an imbecile, her carpetbag must have been drenched. She had no dry garments to wear.  
He beckoned the maid and asked for a table closer to the hearth. Lit on this cold August evening to stave off the storm that was looking like it was relenting somewhat.   
He did not relish the thought of travelling with an ill lady, forcing them perhaps to stay an insurmountable time at a dreary roadside inn. His thoughts, as always leapt to the worst possible outcome. He preferred to be prepared.


	9. Residual Brokenness

Chapter 9 Residual Brokenness 

Miss Bennet was ill, there could be no two opinions about it. She had not said anything but she did not need to.  
She had picked at her food the previous day and now she barely managed to sip her tea. Her hands were shaking and her complexion was white as a ghost except for her bright red cheeks.  
Her emerald green eyes were dull and her voice was hoarse.  
She managed to haul herself into the carriage but he was driving her hard and his guilt was pestering at his conscience. The maid travelling with her had not mentioned anything to him which made him believe it may not be as bad as it looked. She was spending her days with Miss Bennet after all. He rode outside the carriage and did not interact with her apart from the meals. 

He had to stop by Pemberley regardless. His travelling attire would not do in town. He might spare an hour or two to have the apothecary look at her when they stopped by. Perhaps there was a tincture she could take to revive her spirits. 

It was not his intention to stay at Pemberley for the night. They would reach it midday and had many good hours left to continue their journey South.  
He was eager to relieve himself of the burden of caring for Miss Bennet. He was juggling dangerously close to the borders of propriety. Escorting an unmarried gentlewoman across the country with only a maid to chaperone her. A woman that had done nothing to prevent his sister from marrying the most loathsome creature on this earth. Even worked purposely towards the effect. No, he was not going soft on her. She would manage as he always did when he felt a little bit poorly.

XxX

“What a beautifully situated house!” Miss Bennet croaked. She was barely able to stand on her feet after she had exited the carriage. “What is the name of this hostelry?”

“Pemberley,” was the curt answer she received when Mr Darcy turned his eyes upon the ancestral home. The gravel crunched behind him. He turned to look but Miss Bennet had not followed. She lay prostrate upon the driveway in an awkward position.  
Was she trying to compromise him by forcing him to carry her?   
The maid was at her side and tried to right her limbs to help her up but the body she worked upon stayed limp and unresponsive. Mrs Reynolds passed him in a flourish of skirts that belied her advancing years. She hunched down at Miss Bennet's side.

“Oh, I thought it was Georgiana. Who is this young girl?”

She addressed the maid, not him.

“Miss Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire. She was travelling with Mr Darcy to visit her uncle in London. I know nothing else, mam.”

“My heavens, she is burning up. Jacob? Come here and carry this young lady to the rose room. I will send for the apothecary forthwith. How long has she been ill?” 

She still did not address him but the maid. He was obviously out of her good grace to be so blatantly overlooked.  
He did not object to her highhanded manner. He knew better than to gainsay her stellar wisdom. If she believed that Miss Bennet was ill, chances were that she was correct in ninety-nine of a hundred cases. Besides, one night in his own bed sounded heavenly.

With the matter of Miss Bennet in Mrs Reynolds capable hands, he entered his home and the sanctuary of his master suite of rooms.

XxX

It had been three days, three days with no sign of improvement according to Mrs Reynolds. He had to see for himself... Not that he plotted to enter a maidens room but he could stand on the outside, looking in, to gauge for himself if the lady was as ill as they claimed.  
He knocked on the door, it was Mrs Reynolds who answered, just as he had thought. She kept vigilant watch over the lady to the detriment of himself and everyone else at Pemberley.

“May I be of assistance, Mr Darcy?”

She had barely opened the door but a crack. The bed was situated in the middle of the room making his gaze travel directly to its occupant.  
He found it hard to speak, especially the words he intended to utter.  
Miss Bennet was tossing and turning, drenched in sweat. He doubted very much she was alert to anything around her. She was talking though, what was she saying?

“You have to ask your brother's consent. You have only the one, surely you would want him at your side...”

She quieted for a few seconds before her delirious rant continued.

“No, no, no, no... I do not particularly like your way of begetting a husband. I will speak my mind whether you want it or not... It cannot be helped... You must marry... 

Mrs Reynolds stepped out of the room and shut the door.

“Do you now understand why I have to tend to her myself? At least until she gets better or the worst should come to pass. I trust your staff but only to a certain extent...”

“I see... How long will it take for her to recover would you say?”

“I cannot say. It is more a matter of if than when she recovers. I will know more if she makes it through the night but I have my doubts. Not many pull through after three days of this state of fevered delirium.”

“I shall send an express to her family at once. As I should have done when we arrived...”

Mrs Reynolds did not reply, just looked at him. It was clear she was disappointed in his behaviour.  
He bowed and strode to his study to pen a quick note and send it off with a fast rider.

XxX

Five days later an unknown, tired old carriage was spotted coming down the driveway. 

Mr Darcy watched as it ascended down the lane. He dreaded the onslaught of visitors, Miss Bennet had both of her parents alive and four sisters.   
To his surprise, a tall young beautiful woman exited, followed by an elderly gentleman but no one else. Neither resembled Miss Bennet in any shape or form. Perhaps they were someone entirely unrelated to Miss Bennet?

Mr Darcy hurried down the stairs to receive the new arrivals in the foyer. His butler announced them.

“A Mr Bennet and a Miss Bennet to see you, Sir.”

Miss Bennet gave him a quick curtsy while Mr Bennet gave him a slight bow. He perceived subtle hostility from the father.

“Please, will you take me to my sister, Mr Darcy?”

“Yes, follow me. I am relieved to inform you that she is reported to be a little better than when I penned your missive. I have naturally not seen her myself but my housekeeper assures me she is on the mend.”

He had no idea why he chose to escort them to Miss Bennet, or rather Miss Elizabeth's room in the presence of her elder sister, himself. His housekeeper was much occupied with the patient but he had a butler, conveniently present, several footmen and many maids who could have done the deed just as well. He chose not to dwell on it, although he admitted to some level of curiosity about the newcomers.

He reached the door and knocked lightly. Mrs Reynolds knew Miss Elizabeth’s relations had arrived and opened the door.  
Her sister ran the last leg and flung herself at her sister who welcomed her with open arms.

“We have been so worried, Lizzy. I am so glad you are feeling a little better.”

“Much better, I am not prone to being ill. I always recover and much quicker than my mother appreciates.”

“You should not even jest about it, Lizzy. I know you have been seriously ill.”

Darcy averted his eyes from the reunited sisters. Mr Bennet had not yet entered the room. He stood beside him on the threshold with suspiciously misty eyes. He heard the man draw a shuddering breath before he approached his daughter.

“My Lizzy, do you always have to make such a spectacle of yourself!”

The man was barely holding it together and resorted to making sport to cover up his fluctuating emotions. Darcy closed the door behind him, letting the little family have their privacy.

He removed to his study. He had been relieved when the news had come that Miss Elizabeth’s fever had broken but her fevered utterances left him with questions. By what he had heard, it seemed like she had tried to persuade Georgiana away from marrying Wickham but if so, why had she not defended herself during their quarrel?   
She had accepted everything he had thrown at herself yet valiantly defended Georgiana, despite knowing full well his sister culpability. What had Georgiana pronounced? They were similar, too high on the instep, hardly a compliment in either's case. He suspected it was the only comparable trait they had...

XxX

Mr Darcy saw little of his guests apart from the meals. The Bennets spent their days with the patient. Only late at night had he encountered Mr Bennet in the library which he had offered him the free use of. The elderly gentleman had seemed awestricken when he escorted him to the room. He had chuckled and muttered that he now understood why his daughter had taken ill at such an importune moment.  
It was during one of those late-night encounters that Mr Bennet had thanked him for rescuing his daughter when she found herself abandoned at the Scottish border. He had made no accusations towards his sister and her husband. Perhaps, Mr Bennet understood his daughter’s culpability in the matter.

A week later, Miss Elizabeth had partaken some meals in the dining room and enjoyed short walks in the garden, mostly to the nearest bench. The August weather was cooperative towards such excursions. Elizabeth still sat huddled with a shawl wrapped tightly around her person when Darcy happened upon her one afternoon. He looked about to see if Miss Bennet was around but no one was near that he could tell.  
Indecisively, he stood there gazing upon her closed eyes, her head tilted towards the sun, soaking up the rays that gently bred ladies were supposed to avoid. She shuddered, the eyes opened and she startled. Damn his luck, she spotted him lurking at once, he should have removed as soon as he lay his eyes upon her. Instead of engaging him in conversation, she lowered her eyes to the ground.

“Are you cold, Miss Elizabeth?” He was a gentleman, he could perform when desired.

“No, I thank you, Mr Darcy. I am quite comfortable. May I offer you a seat in your own garden?”

He sat, with a proper distance between them, why he had no idea. Curiosity perhaps?

“Miss Elizabeth, when you were ill I sometimes went to your room to inquire about your condition.” Her eyes widened, deuce his wayward tongue. He made it sound as he had been in her room. “Mrs Reynolds would step out of the room and give me a report and notify me of any needs. During one of these reports, you spoke in delirium I believe but it often has a sliver of truth to it. Something you said puzzled me... You urged Georgiana to seek my consent which I thought was strange, considering the circumstances.”

“I was invited by a friend to visit her home under the pretence that she needed my support requesting for her brother’s consent to marry. We were to be escorted by a man of the cloth who at all times in Ramsgate had behaved like a gentleman. Riding outside the carriage, never taking any liberties with your sister. I believed it proof of his sincerity towards genuinely asking for your blessing and consent. The son of a close friend of my aunt's father who my aunt had fond memories of as a child. I esteem my aunt greatly, Mr Darcy. She is a wise and genteel lady.  
Mr Wickham had such honesty in his expressions, he never tried to hide his flaws but repented his sins openly. I thought the breach might be due to a misunderstanding or perhaps I believed you to be judgemental and unyielding by denying a remorseful sinner clemency.   
I was not even aware we were going to Gretna Green until I could see Morecambe Bay. As I mentioned, we were supposed to go to Pemberley to obtain your consent. Georgiana wanted me to come along to boost her confidence. I did not know of the change of plans until it was too late. She had to marry, Mr Darcy. There was nothing else to do...”

“There is always something to be done, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I owe you an apology, Mr Darcy. It seems I was quick to judge your perceived faults when my own were unforgivable sins. I, who have always prided myself in my judgment of character, could not have been more mistaken. I know it can mean but little to you but I am aggrieved to have made such a wretched error, to the eternal detriment of your sweet sister. I am grateful for your assistance in conveying me so far, Mr Darcy. With so little inducement towards gentlemanly behaviour, it was chivalrous of you not to leave me to my own devices. I am confident that I will soon be well enough to return to Hertfordshire. You must be desirous of having your home to yourself, free of uninvited guests.”

The thought hit him. When the Bennets left, he would be all alone. He could not send for Georgiana to keep him company, he did not even know where she was at. Could he be mistaken in Mr Wickham? Had his youthful follies been just that, a rebellion that time and wisdom had rectified?

XxX

Mr Darcy bowed his head, the grief of losing his sister wafted over his countenance. There was no doubt the man fretted about his sister and she must be a constant reminder of his loss.  
It did not escape her that he had uttered nothing to make her stay...  
Where had that nonsensical thought come from? What was she imagining? That Mr Darcy would beg her to stay despite her being the means of ruining his sister’s life, quite possibly forever?  
The fever must have addled her mind. Pemberley was admittedly the most beautiful estate she had ever seen but she felt no attachment towards the house itself. The library was, of course, an incentive in itself for some envy but the lending library had books. One just needed a bit of patience for the newest additions to become available.  
Her questions unresolved, she must speak to her father and hurry their departure along. She could sit in a carriage, there was no longer any reason to stay.

Elizabeth rose and went in search of her father. Mr Darcy did not stir and probably wanted her long gone.

“My good opinion once lost is lost forever,” he muttered under his breath as she walked away but not far enough away to miss his parting words. “I cannot forgive folly and vices, even should I wish it...”

It was neither more nor less than what she expected. She kept her legs moving forward until she found her father where she expected, in the library.

“We should lave for Hertfordshire, Papa. If I can sit on a bench in the garden, I can sit in a carriage.”

Mr Bennet eyed her intently. She blushed which must have made him suspicious her fever might be returning.

“I believe we should wait another day or two. Just to be on the safe side. I am relieved you are feeling restless. I will take it as a sign of your recovery but I doubt that you are that anxious of being home at Longbourn. Tell me, have you made your pardons to Mr Darcy?”

“I have.”

“And what did he reply?”

“Very little, in fact, nothing at all when I come to think of it.” 

His last statement she did not want to repeat to her father. They were uttered absentmindedly, probably more to himself than purposely intended for her ears.

“I am certain that must have made you uneasy but pardons are not meant to bring you comfort. I am of a mind that it would not hurt you to feel it. I am seriously disappointed in your behaviour, Elizabeth. I would not have blinked had it been Lydia who made such a grave misjudgement but I expect better from you.”

“Yes, Papa...”

Elizabeth let herself out of the library, intent on reaching her room before the first salty tear escaped its confinement. She had let her father down, let herself down and everyone else who had ever held her in high esteem.

“Why such a miserable countenance? One should always be merry in a beautiful estate such as Pemberley.  
Where is Mrs Reynolds when one needs her? Mrs Reynolds!”

The Colonel bellowed, making Mrs Reynolds almost break into a run to investigate what had caused such a breach in decorum.

“Ah, there you are. May I beg an introduction to this lovely young lady my cousin has closeted away at Pemberley? Even though she does have the same dour expression...”

She would wipe the grin off his countenance if she told him what she had done but it was not her story to tell. Mr Darcy would fill him in at his leisure. She gave the Colonel a weak smile as Mrs Reynolds performed the necessary introductions.

“Enchanted, Madame,” he bowed low over her hand.

“Richard! I thought you were deployed.”

“No, I have been in Scotland to enlist more soldiers.”

Mr Darcy had stirred from the bench in the rose garden or quite possibly been distressed by the shouting, coming from inside. Either way, Elizabeth slipped away unnoticed by the gentlemen who were soon sequestered in Mr Darcy's study. Not that Elizabeth knew, she was more concerned about the loathsome expression she would read on Colonel Fitzwilliam's countenance when next they met. Was it plausible to wish for never?

XxX

Supper was awkward at best. The two families were both in attendance but were divided in conversations and interactions. They might as well have been in two different dining rooms.

Elizabeth did not know what to do when the meal ended. There was no hostess, should she leave the gentlemen?  
Jane made the decision for her, she rose and asked Mr Darcy if they could utilize the music room. He nodded his acceptance and the ladies left, asking a footman for directions. Jane had been on a small tour of the house with Mrs Reynolds but feared they would get lost if they had to rely on her sense of direction.

Elizabeth walked into a large and bright room with the most beautiful pianoforte she had ever seen. It was a white grand with gold embellishments in the baroque style. Probably a copy since it looked brand new but it was impressive. It drew her in and she sat down on the stool before she had processed a sensible thought.

“Play something, Lizzy. I know you are dying to.”

“Mr Darcy may object.”

“Why should he object?”

Elizabeth looked steadily at her sister who returned her gaze with an, at the moment, quite annoyingly serene expression.   
Jane never thought badly of anyone, least of all her dearest sister. She had immediately excused Elizabeth error in judgement but uncharacteristically pronounced Mr Wickham as the most devious of men. Pardoning Elizabeth for having been taken in by a cunning professional in her next breath. With Elizabeth’s limited experience with rogues and rakes, she could not be faulted for not seeing through their deception. 

Her fingers moved over the keys by their own volition. It was too tempting not to let her fingers run through a scale. Before she knew it, she was singing soft and tenderly, the Bonnie Banks O'Loch Lomond. A Scottish song her aunt had taught her. She did not have the full use of her voice but somehow it made the performance more deeply felt. She noticed Jane was spellbound with tears glistening on her lashes so she pressed on.

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes  
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond  
Where we two have passed so many blithesome days  
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond  
O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road  
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye  
But me and my true love will never meet again  
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond  
I mind where we parted on yon shady glen  
On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomond  
Where in purple hue, the Heiland hills we view  
And the moon shinin' out from the gloamin'  
O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road  
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye  
But me and my true love will never meet again  
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond  
The wee bird may sing and the wild flowers spring  
And in sunshine the waters are sleeping:  
The broken heart will ken nae second spring again  
And the world does not know how we're grievin'  
O ye'll take the high road and I'll take the low road  
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye  
But me and my true love will never meet again  
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond  
Scottish traditional.

When she finished, three gentlemen were applauding from behind. Elizabeth blushed crimson, it had not been her purpose to remind Mr Darcy of Scotland. She had just been caught up in the moment.

The Colonel immediately came to her side and practically begged for more but Elizabeth had exhausted her voice with only one song. She played a lively air but did not sing. When she was finished, she was spent. Her health was still fragile it would seem.  
She excused herself and the Colonel offered to escort her to the stairs but her father beat him to it. He mentioned a book he had promised to read to her before she went to sleep. Elizabeth was grateful.   
Mr Darcy could not have told his cousin the sordid Scottish tale. When he did, the Colonel would surely desist his flirtatious behaviour and loathe her as any sane man would do.  
It was unusual though, that any man paid her any attention when her sister Jane was in the room. The Colonel treated Jane with respect and politeness but he sought out Elizabeth. Perhaps Mr Darcy had hinted his interest to his cousin and the Colonel was giving Mr Darcy leeway to pursue his romantic interest?


	10. The Comfort of Home

Chapter 10 Comfort of Home

Her father hinted the next day that it was time to head home but the Colonel would hear none of it. He and Mr Darcy was heading south in three days. It was much safer to travel in groups should any brigades lay in waiting along the route.   
Mr Darcy did not gainsay him which Elizabeth took as a confirmation of his growing interest in her sister. They were much alike and well suited, both of a somewhat taciturn and reserved nature. They would have a marriage of few words but strong sentiments, she predicted.   
What Jane felt about the owner of Pemberley was difficult to tell though, even for Elizabeth. Jane felt deeply but hid it well behind her serene expression.  
She could not wait to get home, home to the tranquillity that was sure to descend as soon as she passed the threshold of her beloved Longbourn. Familiar and safe albeit far from quiet. She had not realised how much she missed her home until now. The restless unease she felt must be due to her long absence. Perhaps travelling the continent was not such a good dream to aspire to after all when one could be comfortably ensconced in one’s own home...

XxX

He should not have delayed their journey. Mr Bennet wanted to go home but he felt the need to go over the harvest one more time with his steward.  
It had not been strictly necessary, Mr MacGregor was an excellent steward who needed little by supervision. In fact, it was his steward’s stellar vision that had made him implement the new crop rotation system that had proven so efficient in the last four years. The fields had increased the yield, surpassing his expectations. It needed no improvement at the moment.  
He should not mull over crop rotation when his uncle stood furiously before him, with good reason...

“...that Georgiana has married the steward’s son but why you would put it in the news sheets is incomprehensible...”

Darcy righted himself and breathed slowly through his nose. A calm head was crucial. 

“I did not...” he did not manage to complete his denial of putting an announcement in the pares before his uncle interrupted him.

“Who is that?”

His uncle was pointing a finger at the wide-eyed Miss Elizabeth who happened to be in the library when his uncle stormed in. His butler came panting behind him. He really needed a replacement. Mr Perkins was old and too slow to keep up with his indignant uncle.

“A friend of Georgiana that she conveniently forgot to bring back to England when she and her husband left Gretna Green.”

“You allowed my niece marry at Gretna Green?”

“I allowed nothing, the deed was done when I caught up with them.”

“Those anvil marriages are hard to prove. With few and persuadable witnesses, the sordid affair might have been hushed up and entirely forgotten. At this moment, I am the laughing stock at the House of Lords. I will not stand for it!”

His uncle was bellowing, not wise but he guessed the news was all over Pemberley already. If it was the talk of town as well, it would be too late anyhow.

“This sordid affair might still be salvageable, I would like to prove to the nincompoops in the House that there was nothing to the rumours. Where is she now?”

“I do not know but I would wager in London. Wickham prefers the hustle and bustle of town to country living. He claims to have taken orders, it is easier to get a living in London’s eastern part than anyplace else.”

Miss Elizabeth was trying to sneak out behind his uncle, obviously uncomfortable with the topic of discussion. She did not make it through, his lordship swiftly turned on her.

“What is your name? Where do you come from? Who are your parents?”

“I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire.”

“Bennet in Hertfordshire? Never heard of the chap.”

“No, I suspected not. My father is not fond of town, he goes but rarely.”

Lord Matlock starred at Miss Elizabeth when horror suffused his expression and he turned towards himself, pointing a long finger.

“Has she compromised you?”

“No!”

“But you travelled together?”

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth in the carriage with a maid, I rode outside.”

“Good thinking, nephew. I never took you for a simpleton but why is she still here?”

“She took ill.”

“Very convenient, I bet it was when she laid her eyes on your magnificent estate.”

Lord Matlock glared at Elizabeth.

“You should not have taken her here. She could have stayed at the Rose and Crown at her own expense. She may still claim compromise, staying at a bachelor’s household unchaperoned.”

“Mrs Reynolds staid with her day and night until her family got here. Mr Bennet and Miss Bennet arrived within a few days.”

“You believe her family will protect you?”

“I have had no indication otherwise.”

Miss Elizabeth took a step forward to gain his Lordships attention.

“Pray, excuse my forwardness but you have nothing to fear from me, my Lord. We will leave tomorrow unless there will be another delay, Mr Darcy?”

“No, I cannot imagine there will be, Miss Bennet.”

“You should not escort her home, Darcy. Expectations have been created by less.”

“We are travelling in two separate carriages, uncle. Your son is with me, Mr Bennet has his own carriage. We are joining a caravan for the safety of numbers, nothing more.”

“I will join you back to London, Darcy. We have to fight this. Deuced inconvenient I left London for Pemberley when I have to turn back so soon but it cannot be helped... Are you sure Georgiana is in London?”

“No, it is merely a guess but the notice in the paper suggest that I am right. Besides, Wickham has some friends in London who might know where he is. It is my only lead so I will start there.”

Miss Elizabeth had slipped out of the library while his uncle spoke. His cousin soon joined them and a plan was formed for when they arrived in London.

XxX

The Bennets kept to themselves, even if they did take their meals at the same inns as Mr Darcy and his family. He chose a private parlour where it was attainable while the Bennets dined in the common room. No invitations to join them were forthcoming, not that it was expected.

Unfortunately, the private parlour was occupied in Colsterworth. They had reached the Great Northern Road and the inns were much busier than the turnpike roads of the north.  
Lord Matlock blustered and complained but it was little the innkeeper might do but to patiently beg the Lord to wait until the room became vacant. It was currently occupied by a duke, breaking his fast. 

He was not able to keep his voice down in the common room either. 

“He must be used to shouting over the din in the House of Lords,” Mr Bennet remarked dryly. His deep voice, raspy but only discernible to his daughters. Elizabeth smirked but Jane threw him a disapproving look. 

“Was it Edward’s Street Mrs Young had an establishment? A boarding house of some sort?”

The sound travelled to the Bennets table.

“Can we wait to discuss this until we have more privacy, uncle?”

Lord Matlock lowered his voice after his nephew’s admonishment but Elizabeth had something new to think about. Mrs Young could not possibly own a boarding house. If she did, she would not need to take a position as Miss Darcy's companion and she certainly did not need the salary to support her son. She could simply use the income from her property...

XxX

Home, at last, Elizabeth curled up in her favourite seat in all of Longbourn, the window seat in her room. The moon shone high and large, lighting up the garden with its silver treads. Elizabeth hugged her knees and rested her head upon them. Waiting for the tranquillity of Longbourn at peaceful sleep but it alluded her. The inner serenity she craved had abandoned her entirely it seemed. Replaced by a churning stomach and a restless mind.

She had parted ways with Mr Darcy and his entourage right after Luton. She had wondered if he was going to Netherfield as was his initial plan but he had continued on to London.   
Mr Bingley was rumoured to have arrived at Netherfield, hopefully, to attend the assembly on the morrow or rather today.   
Her mother had mentioned little else since they arrived back home from the north. Apparently, he meant to marry one of her sisters...

She needed to purge this unsettling feeling of disappointment. She was nothing to him...  
The problem was that he no longer was nothing to her. Probably never had been...  
Too much time for introspection, lying sick in her bed at Pemberley had lifted the clouds from her eyes. An unwelcome realisation had dawned upon her.  
Firstly, she had admitted to esteem him. He was serious but dutiful and just. He carried the responsibilities of a large estate and a young sister with fervent dedication. The testament from his most trusted servant was a stellar recommendation of any man...   
He had earned her respect by not be driven by his own emotions to guide his actions. Otherwise, he would have left her in Gretna Green to fend for herself. He must have an underlying decency to countenance such abhorrence which must work against his every feeling.   
He dealt with problems calmly and efficiently. It was refreshing after being brought up with fluttering nerves and indifferent mockery. She could admire his staid persona when the results were equanimity. She had seen how he clamped down his emotions to deal with his irate uncle and broken carriages. Solving the issues to the best of everyone’s interest.  
It could no longer be concealed that she was in love with Mr Darcy. Had been infatuated since their first encounter when he so thoroughly dismissed her. Their second encounter had by no means gone any better but had proved that vanity was her greatest flaw. Getting to know the man behind the reserved masked he wore in public, even when interacting with his own relations. The mask was subtle but discernible when you paid attention. He was as skilled as Jane to hide his true emotions.  
Elizabeth wondered what had made him donned the masque initially. Perfecting the disguise for the world to see.   
With Jane, it was the constant embarrassment from her mother and later, her youngest sister as well. Mrs Bennet would scold if she perceived a slight like a wince, shrug or god forbid an eye-rolling which was why Elizabeth frequently found herself in her mother’s disfavour. Unfortunately, it did not curb her behaviour but rather spurred her on. Making a spectacle in front of all and sundry. 

Elizabeth winced but not by the cold. Perhaps, it was best Mr Darcy never came to Hertfordshire...  
If his abominable impression of herself was not enough to deter him from coming, the Bennets would surely send him fleeing to Derbyshire.

The truth was that the man she had sworn to despise for all eternity was perhaps the man that suited her best. His understanding and temper were excellent, he only lacked a bit of liveliness she would have been happy to provide. His knowledge of the world would have benefitted herself. Though unlike in disposition, they complimented each other, creating one whole with two people.  
She began to comprehend that a man who rightly despises her by her own merit was the one residing firmly in her heart. The wretched heart that should be commanded to give up its ludicrous yearnings. 

She had to stop this. It was highly improbable she would ever see him again, even after such cordiality they had exhibited at Pemberley. She found additional anguish throwing a retrospective glance at their contradictive relationship, both acting with perfect civility towards each other at last. He was a master of hiding his emotions, it probably extended to disdain and loathing...

XxX

He hated leaving London but Richard was right. Georgiana believed him to be at Netherfield with Mr Bingley. She might try to seek him out there if the marriage had soured, an outcome he fully expected. If she came to Darcy House, the servants were instructed to send her to Matlock House. 

A man who dealt in clandestine matters had been hired. A surveillance was set up on Edward’s Street where Mrs Young’s establishment was situated. The direct inquiry had not been fruitful. Mrs Young was not in attendance and none of the guests was named Wickham. In fact, there was not even a couple living there. 

It was nothing compared to the bad news Bingley had delivered upon his arrival. An assembly with dancing was held at the White Lion Inn, he was supposed to attend the same evening.   
He had hardly slept in three weeks, how was he supposed to act with decorum when he was barely able to keep his eyes open?  
In addition, he had to watch himself against Bingley's persistent and increasingly audacious sister. Miss Bingley had set her cap on him years ago and tried to ingrate herself into his good graces by speaking meanly of others. He may even have joined her scorn had not a little bird told him off for his bad manners. She was no one of consequence but her accusation had stuck in his mind. He had behaved badly, ungentlemanly even, at Mr Livingstone's dinner party. 

Mr Darcy sighed, righted his cravat and joined Mr Bingley and Mr Hurst in the foyer for the impending assembly.  
His mood soured additionally after waiting for a half-hour for the sisters to descend the staircase. Miss Bingley had a ridiculously height of ostrich plum feathers attached to her turban, requiring her maid to travel with them as the headpiece would not fit inside the carriage whilst still on her head. The ostentatious hat must be removed during travel and assembled at the White Lion Inn. Adding an extra ten minutes of delay once they were at the assembly and an even more cramped carriage ride.

His head was aching even before he had set foot inside the throng of sweaty bodies. The dancing had commenced without them but the din and the music died down as Bingley's party arrived.  
A short, corpulent man with a nasal voice welcomed them to the assembly. Obviously the master of ceremony, a Sir William, he had managed to observe before he tried to purge the man’s incessant chatter from his ears.  
The whispers had already begun. Ten thousand a year, an estate in Derbyshire, the son of an earl, his sister recently married the steward’s son. It was in the papers, it must be true. Wonder why he holds himself so high and mighty, he's no better than us. He looks positively dour...

Sir William performed dutifully the introductions to Meryton’s upper society.   
A matron was introduced as Mrs Bennet, he had expected to encounter Bennets. With five unmarried daughters, she would not let an opportunity such as an assembly pass her by but he had not expected to be coaxed into dancing with the one he would mind the most.  
He made swift excuses and walked the outskirts of the room in hope of escaping his own head. He found a corner to observe and danced his two duty dances with Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley. Those could not be avoided.

Mr Bingley sidled up to him with a ridiculous grin on his face. What now?

“Darcy! I cannot have you standing about in this stupid manner. I must have you dance... Let me introduce you to my partner's sister she is very pretty and sitting over there without a partner.”

Mr Darcy turned in the direction of Bingley's gaze and locked eyes with a familiar set of emerald greens.

“Miss Elizabeth has recently been very ill, Bingley. She is probably sitting down to recover, I would not tempt her to overtax herself by asking for a set.”

“You know Miss Elizabeth?”

“Yes, I had the pleasure of an introduction earlier this summer. You have met her as well, she is Mr Gardiner's niece. She attended Livingstone’s dinner party where we both were present. In fact, I have met your dance partner as well, Miss Bennet and their father, Mr Bennet. He does not seem to be in attendance or I would have paid him my respects.”

Mr Bingley seemed speechless, judging by his slightly gaping mouth. Elizabeth, who had boldly met Mr Darcy's eyes in a mute challenge, averted her gaze first. Lowering it to her hands in her lap. She folded them to stop herself from fiddling with her skirts.  
She had thought he would level an insult towards her, deep enough to be recognised with the éclat of a proverb. Yet again, she had been proven wrong in her estimates of Mr Darcy. He was a conundrum she could not figure out, no matter how hard she tried to sketch his character. It was better to give the endeavour up entirely.

“Lizzy, what is the matter?”

Jane had sidled up to her unnoticed. She had an eerie ability to glide soundlessly across the floor and immediately read her mind like a fortune teller.  
Elizabeth smiled to herself, picturing Jane dressed in vibrant colours and heavyset jewellery at a fair. 

“Nothing! I am, perhaps, a little fatigued after my recent illness. My endurance has suffered somewhat in its wake.”

“I should have thought of it... Shall I call for the carriage? I will happily escort you home.”

“Think nothing of the sort, Jane. I am perfectly comfortable here in Mary's company. You go and enjoy your partner’s moony eyes. If I am not mistaken, Mr Bingley has asked you for a second set...”

Jane still looked uncertain but Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. She was not going to deprive her sister of a pleasurable evening because her own contained such misery. What else were they supposed to discuss into the early morning... Her distress was nothing if she could revel in Jane's success.  
She looked to Mary who had her eyes glued to the pages of the book. Her lips moved slightly as she devoured the pages, lost to the world beyond.  
She sighed and looked towards the dancefloor. One would have to be content with observing when nothing else was to be had.   
She spotted Charlotte across the room with her father and mother.  
Elizabeth left Mary to her book and joined the Lucas trio. Many more neighbours came to greet her. She had been away for a long time and the habitants of Meryton were curious about what she had experienced. Much would have to be concealed, of course, but she found enough to regal her friends with, stories of bathing machines, peaks and fine dining. Many of her neighbours had never left Meryton at all...

Jane beckoned her over to the Netherfield party subtly, Elizabeth could pretend not to observe but that would be cruel.   
She probably wanted to introduce her sister to the superior sisters who had glided through the assembly with their noses in the air, dancing with none outside their party. Elizabeth stifled a wince at her own thoughts. Had she not made similar assumption against Mr Darcy? Her judging days were over if the result was to be lent any bearing...

Jane performed the introductions to allow the sisters to engage in what felt like an interrogation. 

“I have heard you visited Pemberley for an extended stay this summer?” the young unmarried one inquired.

“I would not call it extended, between two or three weeks.”

“It is a lovely estate, there is nothing like it in all of England. Pray, are you a long time friend of Mr Darcy?”

“What I have seen of the estate was indeed breath-taking, I have never seen a house where nature has done more to enhance the beauty.” Elizabeth chose deliberately not to answer the second question. Perhaps not the wisest action as Miss Bingley was now scowling at her but quickly turned towards Jane at the exclusion of Elizabeth.  
In truth, Elizabeth had little to tell about Pemberley, having been mostly confined to her room and a bench in the rose garden. The only other rooms she had seen was the hallways, dining room, music room and library. The latter she could have gushed about but she doubted Miss Bingley would be interested. She did not come across as the bookish type.

XxX

Despite the late-night revelry at the assembly hall, Elizabeth slept poorly and awoke at the crack of dawn. A morning constitutional was needed, the one and a half mile to the summit of Meryton’s tallest hill did not feel insurmountable if she did not push herself but strolled leisurely.

Her stamina seemed to revive in the crisp but refreshing morning air. She reached the boulder on the top of Oakham Mount effortlessly and gazed out over the slanting hills. She could see smoke from the chimneys at Longbourn and Netherfield from her advantage point. So close yet so far away...

It was time... Time to pull herself out of this self-pitying state that served no one, at least of all, herself. She was not built for misery of any kind. It was time to forgive herself from being taken in by villains, the show of poor judgement and mistaken character. Although the master of Pemberley would never... It did not matter, it could have no bearing upon her life so separate from the wilds of Derbyshire and the beautiful grounds of his ancestral home.  
She better avoid him, it was easily done when one had the inclination. She would let this infatuation she had developed, run its course and everything would get back to normal. Soon, he would travel on. These great men never stayed long at one place, she hoped...  
The sun warmed her cheeks, she closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards to catch the rays, taking large fortifying breaths.   
A familiar thunder approached, the steady rhythm of hoofs pounding the path below. She had to open her eyes to look at the intruder lest he was coming in her direction. He was... On a black stallion, she recognised.  
Sucking in a quick breath she turned to flee, most unladylike down the steepest but shortest route to Longbourn. With any luck, she could get away before he had noticed her. If not, he would have new fodder for his loathing. The wild and uncouth behaviour of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, running unladylike down a slope.

XxX

He guided his steed towards the only hill with some height in this neighbourhood of lazy terrain with flat, wide-spreading fields and thickets. He wanted an overview of the Netherfield estate to gauge what needed to be done and what problems Mr Bingley might expect in the future.  
A movement to his right drew his attention. A flash of green with white lacing. It was clearly Miss Elizabeth Bennet running like she was chased by wolves down the other side of the hill. Her hair became undone and whipped her back like a jockey's riding-whip on the racetrack. She skipped and jumped downwards at a speed that could end in nothing but a fall and quite possibly a broken neck. He wanted to call out to her but realized it might spook her and result in the fall he was anxiously waiting for.  
He had to admit she was agile... She seemed surefooted and did not falter once until the thicket below engulfed her being entirely.  
He stood quietly listening for a little while longer, there might be a scream when she hit the bottom or lost her footing.   
The morning was eerily silent. His initial thoughts of the wild and untamed Miss Elizabeth had just been confirmed, yet he could not help feeling a tad envious of the freedom and liberty she possessed. Acting with no thoughts towards how she was perceived nor the repercussion of a rigid, unforgiving society. He would never act that way himself, had not since before he left for Eton... Those childhood days of no worries and no responsibilities. He wished he had known then that it was his last sojourn with freedom and boundless joy.

Not that growing up at Pemberley had been without its perils. His parents loved each other but they were very dissimilar. Their quarrels were epic and shook the foundation of Pemberley.  
He was cognizant that he did not want that for himself. He needed peace and tranquillity, not fights and distemper. Neither did he want the bottomless sorrow and despair his father had plunged into after his mother’s riding accident.   
Impatiently she had set out, a month after the birth of Georgiana, never to come back. They found her near a stile with a broken neck after hours of searching. She had attempted a jump that had somehow had gone awry, they would never know exactly what had happened to cause the fall. The horse had been found not far from his mother. It had a broken front leg which might explain the dire outcome.  
His father never quite recovered from the loss. He was not a vivacious man to begin with but it was nothing like the sombreness that engulfed him after his mother’s passing. Although he was never negligent towards his responsibilities. He took an active part in his children’s lives, particularly their education was his priority.  
He had preferred the company of the steward's son though. Vivacious but reckless like their mother had been. Mr Darcy was too much like his father. Staid and thoughtful, he was not adapt in lightning his mood like Wickham had done. It became more and more obvious that his father favoured Wickham and he himself had become more staid with the realisation and rarely sought out his father and his young friend. He had even heard him say to Wickham that he was the better man. Asking him to look after Fitzwilliam when he was gone. Like Mr Wickham had some inner strength, he himself did not possess. It was ridiculous... Wickham had no education in estate management, his days outside the Cambridge University was filled with pleasurable pursuits, not ledgers, numbers and drainage trouble. He was a smooth talker for the disputes between quarrelsome tenants but there rarely was any trouble of that sort at Pemberley.  
His resentment towards Wickham had grown and he kept himself as much out of their way that was attainable without being rude.  
It had come as a surprise to him that his father had not provided more for Wickham in his will. He would not have blinked had his portion been fifty thousand pounds but it had been a thousand and the living at Kympton when it became available. Suitable for a godson but nothing more.

Swiftsilver stomped his hooves impatiently beneath him. The stallions breathing had evened out, he was eager to resume their wild gallop across the fields. Was he standing here, envious of a positively feral country chit? Ridiculous! Perhaps he owned to a little of Miss Elizabeth’s wildness, he just had more appropriate means to release them. He kicked Swiftsilver's flanks and the horse responded immediately, sending him flying over the fields with the wind in his hair.


	11. Unexpected Visitors

Chapter 11 Unexpected Visitors

A note was delivered from Netherfield, Jane was ill having been caught in a downpour the previous day. Their positively occult mother had chanted for rain when Jane had been invited to Netherfield by the pernicious sisters while the gentlemen were away from home. The weather gods had answered her prayers and drenched poor Jane who had been forced my the aforementioned mother to travel on horseback...

Elizabeth bit her lip, the dreaded Mr Darcy who she had sworn to herself to avoid was residing at Netherfield but Jane was ill. A headache, fever and sore throat she had admitted to. Knowing Jane it might be worse. She always glossed over and painted everything in a favourable light.  
She would have to go to Netherfield, she would just have to sneak in the kitchen door. Mrs Nichols was Mrs Hills sister, she would not mind her unorthodox entrance.

An hour later she entered the back garden of Netherfield. The circumvent route had not done her petticoat any services but she was there with the sole purpose of seeing Jane.   
She kept her eyes on the ground to keep out of the slippery wet patches when her gaze was blocked by a pair of immaculate Hessian boots. She briefly considered fleeing but blew out her breath and raised her eyes to those stormy greys she was doing a lousy job at avoiding. She had no sooner decided on a cause of action when he started to emerge from thin air, everywhere she went.  
A new strategy was necessary, as soon as she had seen her sister…

“Miss Bennet…”

She remembered to curtsy, a little late…

“Mr Darcy, I am here to see my sister.”

“On foot?”

“As you can see… I am sorry to interrupt your stroll, Mr Darcy. I will see if I can find Mrs Nichols.”

“I may escort you to your sister.”

“Absolutely not, I mean, that will not be necessary. I would not dream of imposing myself upon your morning constitutional. I am familiar with Netherfield. Have a pleasant stroll, Mr Darcy!”

Elizabeth tried to hasten around his formidable figure and proceed along the trail towards the back entrance she had used to knock on when she was a child. Before she could continue her reminiscent of her childhood friend, Mrs Nichols daughter. Mr Darcy had caught up with her and offered her his arm.

“I insist! It is no inconvenience, I was heading back inside myself.”

For some unexplainable reason, the encounter had made him think of his sister and the offer of his arm had come as lightning from a blue sky.   
She looked stunned before she rested a dainty hand on his forearm. For a moment she had appeared like she was about to reject his second attempt.

Her hand felt like an icicle on his arm, he could feel the chill through his woollen coat. Without a thought, he lifts the cold appendix, rubs and blows on it to warm it up. Too late, he notices Elizabeth’s bewildered expression. He should have remembered she is not his sister...   
He releases her hand a bit abruptly and set a brisk pace towards the front entrance.

Mrs Nichols opened the door and relieved Mr Darcy's escorting duty to take her to Jane's bedroom upstairs. Unfortunately, the chamber was not empty of visitors. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst stood at the far end of the room, lamenting on how unpleasant it was to be ill.  
Elizabeth curtsied to the ladies and hastened to her sister's side while the ladies by the window exchanged horrified looks. 

“Tell me, Miss Eliza, did you walk here?”

Elizabeth touched Jane's forehead, she was burning up while no one was doing anything to cool her down. There was a bowl of broth, it was cold to the touch, and a glass of water.

“I did! Miss Bingley, may I trouble you for a bowl of cold water and a cloth? My sister is very warm and needs to cool down.”

“Certainly, come Louisa. Let us find a maid.”

Elizabeth could have pointed out the bell pull in the chamber but she decided to let the sisters escape if they were so uncomfortable in a sickroom.   
The maid they sent proved much more efficient as well. A warm bowl of broth and tea was delivered with the pitcher of cold water and the cloth.  
Jane's red and glossy eyes were looking at her in gratefulness which would have to suffice. Her voice was hoarse and speaking sent her into coughing fits that made Elizabeth insist she did not attempt it.

Elizabeth spent all morning tending to her sister. At three o'clock Miss Bingley came for another visit, inquiring if Elizabeth wanted Mr Bingley's carriage to convey her home. It was decent of Miss Bingley to offer but Elizabeth politely refused. It was not her intention to inconvenience anyone with her impromptu visit. Jane, on the other hand, showed much distress at the thought of Elizabeth leaving. Miss Bingley had not much choice but to offer Miss Elizabeth to stay with her sister.  
The adjoining chamber was aired and a dispatch was sent to Longbourn for the necessaries to prolong her stay.   
Elizabeth expressed her gratitude, she was loathed to leave her sister in a condition much worse than the note she had written in the morning had suggested.  
Miss Bingley mentioned that dinner was served at seven and left the two sisters to themselves.  
Elizabeth was famished but had to wait a few hours more. She had had a light breakfast, many hours ago and had not wanted to inconvenience anyone but the maid that occasionally looked in on them had heard her stomach rumble and brought a cup of tea and a tray of biscuits. Elizabeth was mortified but ate the offerings, not too proud to starve…

Jane finally fell asleep around six. The tinctures provided by the apothecary, Mr Johnson, gave her relief enough to be comfortable. It had come with a messenger as Mr Johnson had not had any with him when he visited in the morning.  
Elizabeth's fresh gowns had arrived as well. She was grateful she needed not to venture down to the dining room with muddy petticoats. 

XxX

There were two dining rooms at Netherfield. One large one for formal dining and one smaller one referred to as the breakfast room that would suit the current numbers of guests. Elizabeth guessed they would soup in the latter. A more intimate setting among a small group of friends.  
She was wrong, the breakfast room was not only empty of occupants but the room bore no indications of being in use. She turned and headed down the hallway, to the opposite wing of the house where the supper must surely commence. She passed the billiard room where angry voices travelled through the open door.

“Why have you come? You are not welcome here!”

“I know, I have no intention of staying. I have enlisted in the Derbyshire militia stationed here in Meryton. I have a friend there, Captain Denny, Sir Llewellyn's second son. They were in need of more men and I was in need of an occupation. I have not been able to find myself a living. You know as well as I that those are usually kept within the family and if there are no younger sons, they all have friends or more distant relations to provide for.   
However, I had hoped you would welcome Georgiana, the Bingleys are her friends too. Miss Bingley seemed very pleased at the thought of entertaining Georgiana. I would not like for her to live at the encampment…”

“Neither would I which is why I had envisioned a very different husband for my sister or better yet, no husband at all.”

“You would keep her at home with you forever? She is a woman, Darcy. No woman wants to be the spinster sister living at home tending for their taciturn brother. She deserves a home of her own, a husband and children.”

“She could have had that had she waited until she was an adult.”

“She is six and ten now, Darcy. Not exactly a child.”

“Not exactly an adult either.”

“What are you suggesting, Darcy? That I am a cradle robber? I could call you out for questioning my honour.”

Elizabeth should really not be listening but afraid that her footfalls would alert them to her presence, she tiptoed away but not quickly enough to escape eavesdropping on their conversation. Both what they had confessed and what they were about to announce.

“You will never have one penny of her inheritance.”

“I will never ask for it. Come now Darcy, I have some pride although not as much as you. I want to provide for my wife myself. She is an angel, never complaining but you must know I can never provide what she was used to from home. Very few men in England could.”

“I do not believe you.”

“Have I ever asked you for her rightful inheritance?”

“No, but I suspect that is part of your scheme to make me part with it. As I have mentioned before, her inheritance is tied up and out of reach.”

“We both know that if her dowry is not paid out the funds will resort back to the estate. We also know that you could easily raise the money from somewhere else and pay Georgiana what is her due but I have no intention of quarrelling with you about finances. I wanted to know if Georgiana would be welcome to stay with her friends without you making it difficult for her. If I cannot have your word, I will bring her with me.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Perceive it any way you like, I have no authority over you.”

Elizabeth rounded the corner and hastened the rest of the way to the formal dining room. None of the Netherfield residents was there yet but at least there were footmen milling about, readying the room for the dinner guests, proving she had come to the right location.  
She stood indecisive on the threshold. The meal had become even more complicated with the arrival of the Wickhams. They had left her to fend for herself at Gretna Green, her feelings towards the both of them were not favourable but she acknowledged that with their greater knowledge of Mr Darcy, they probably knew he would not abandon her. Newlyweds generally did not want company on their honeymoon unless it was a particularly distasteful match where the bride preferred to be chaperoned by a sister or another close relative, even after she was wed...

Miss Bingley and Mrs Wickham must still be in the parlour but Elizabeth was not desirous of joining them. If she had not been so famished, she would have hastened back to Jane’s room and hidden there until she could get a carriage from Longbourn. The chance of that was slim to none though, she begrudgingly acknowledged, with a matchmaking mother who had an illicit agenda…  
What were the chances no one would notice her presence at dinner? Even less...

This was ridiculous! It would be an uncomfortable reunion of which she had experienced before. Neither of them mattered in her life. If they all despised her, she would think no more of it. She had made her excuses, repented her ill-judged actions and was moving forward. She entered the room and decided to wait on the other occupants. She walked to the window as not to get in the way of the busy footmen and gazed longingly into the darkened garden. Even a pitch-black picnic in the snippy autumn air sounded preferable. She immediately conjectured the horror that would have suffused Miss Bingley's countenance should she dare make such a suggestion. It lifted her spirit and put a smile back in her expression. The window was rather drafty, she hugged herself to keep warm.

XxX

Would this travesty never end? Darcy wanted nothing more than to toss the blaggard out on his sorry arse but it was not his place, unfortunately. Even Bingley might take umbrage against that kind of liberty taken with his responsibilities.  
He regarded the man in front of him, half a head shorter with stubble shadowing his jaws. He never could get the hang of shaving himself.  
His hair, curly and unruly hanging below his ears. He wore a gentleman’s attire but it was not the most current fashion and his sleeves looked like they had been mended. Wickham met his gaze unflinchingly with a crevice between his brows. He always had this stubborn streak that would not let him obey at the will of others.  
He was the exact opposite of what he had wanted from his sister husband.   
He was too old, too low born, too reckless, too selfish and he took too little responsibility for his own actions.  
Although he had received some shiners at Cambridge... For unpaid gambling debts, mostly. There had been the incident, kissing Lord Braithwaite's sister which had resulted in a thorough beating but usually, he got away with just about anything. People liked him because he was entertaining company and could charm his way out of the scrapes he obviously deserved.

Wickham took his watch out of his pocket, the one his father had given him on his eighteenth birthday. He was surprised it had not ended up in a pawn shop somewhere in town.  
It was valuable and had been new and shiny when he got it. A solid gold watch made by Camerer Cuss and co on New Oxford Street in London. Darcy had received a watch as well when he turned eighteen. A Darcy heirloom after his grandfather. Not as shiny but made by the revered watchmaker Thomas Tompion with a case made by Nathaniel Delander. It was about a hundred and thirty years old.

“It seems we have exhausted our topic, shall we join the ladies?” Mr Wickham's countenance lit up at the mere thought of reuniting with his wife. No doubt eager to be relieved of his dreary company.

“After you,” he gestured for Wickham to proceed him. He was not a man he preferred to turn his back on.

They continued down the hall and the busy footmen made it easy to locate the dining room for the unfamiliar Wickham. The room seemed empty at first, before he noticed a lady was standing quietly, gazing out the window. Wickham noticed her as well.

“Miss Bennet, what a surprise to see you here...”

The lady turned and let hands drop to her sides before she gave them a quick curtsy.

“Mr Wickham... Mr Darcy!”

Did he imagining it or was her tone softer whilst speaking his name? Of course, she must still be upset the Wickhams left her to fend for herself at Gretna Green.

The others were hot on their heels. Miss Bingley's voice was of a nature that carried. She entered with Georgiana and the rest of their party. Georgiana made an unladylike squeal and hastened across the room.

“Elizabeth!”

Elizabeth curtsied but did not quite reciprocate the hug Georgiana pulled her into. He took offence to that. It was not Georgiana's fault that she had been taken in by a practised seducer. She should aim her reservations towards the culprit rather than the victim.

“I had not expected to see you, what a delightful surprise,” Georgiana gushed. Oblivious to a slightly chilly reception from Elizabeth.

“My sister has taken ill, I am here to nurse her back to health.”

“Dear Georgiana, you must come here and sit by me at the dinner table. I cannot possibly survive the deprivation of your company so soon after we have reunited.”

Miss Bingley linked her arm with Georgiana and practically dragged her to her end of the table. Elizabeth redeemed herself with giving Georgiana an assuring smile as she was led away. Mr Wickham was given the same fate as his wife. Miss Bingley's talons were long and efficient. He was promptly placed on her other side, opposite of Georgiana. Bingley sat at the other end and Darcy placed himself at his side with Louisa opposite him. Hurst sat next to his wife leaving Elizabeth in the middle of the table with no one opposite her and Mr Hurst for company. Wickham was quite a few places down the line and was being held captive by a very persistent Miss Bingley, tenacious to know all their goings-on. He listened with one ear and heard her insist that Georgiana should stay at Netherfield until Wickham had secured better accommodations for them which he knew would be never. He could have interjected but that would send his sister living in a tent with winter approaching. He could not do it... Instead, he kept silent and was relieved to hear Wickham refusing the same service. He needed to be with his soldiers. He had bought a captains commission since he had actual war experience and that was what the militia needed. Someone of understanding to train the young recruits. He had spent his last funds on securing it, now he needed to advance swiftly into a Colonel's rank which would yield enough to keep a wife...

Miss Elizabeth was awfully quiet he noticed. She sat ramrod straight, eating her soup but did not converse with anyone. She had not the most loquacious of table partners, not after the food had arrived, but he had not thought she had it in her. She seemed to always be on the move or at least putting her wit to test the wherewithal of her friends... Of course, she had no friends here, not apart from Georgiana and she was occupied with their hostess. It would be rude to interrupt.

“Pray, Miss Elizabeth. Are your sister any better?”

“I am afraid not, Mr Bingley. She was sleeping after Mr Johnson's tinctures arrived but her fever is still very high.”

“Perhaps I should send for my physician in town...”

“You are very kind, Mr Bingley but I hope it will not be necessary. Perhaps, the fever will break during the night as it often does.”

“Please, keep me informed, Miss Elizabeth. I will defer to your greater knowledge but do not hesitate to ask anything that may be needed. I and my staff are at your disposal.”

Elizabeth smiled a grateful smile to Mr Bingley while his sister tried to send him an irritated look from across the table. Bingley did not notice though. He had fallen into uncharacteristically quiet contemplation, obviously thinking of his angel.

XxX

Elizabeth wanted to excuse herself as soon as propriety would allow. Though it would not be seemly to do so until she had spent a little time with her friend who had conveniently had forgotten the discord between them at Gretna Green where they had discovered that they saw several issues in very different lights. 

The ladies had adjourned to the music room to leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars.   
Georgiana had begged her for a duet they had used to practise at Ramsgate. Elizabeth acquiesced as she reckoned it as an adequate punishment for her folly, exhibiting her meagre talents in front of those who must be accustomed to the best performers town had to offer.   
Unfortunately, it earned her the disapprobation of their hostess who did not willingly give up her exclusivity on Georgiana. She was quick to insinuate herself between them as soon as their duet hit the final note. Elizabeth did not mind, the gentlemen entered sans Mr Wickham, allowing her to seat herself in the background. A game of cards was agreed upon by all but Elizabeth who declined. She needed to see to Jane soon and settled with a book. 

“Prefer reading to cards, do you? How singular...” Mr Hurst made his only comment of the evening.

“Miss Eliza is a great reader and prefers it over everything else. Hazards of being raised without a governess or any formal education. None of the Bennets was. Jane, told me before she took ill,” Miss Bingley remarked none to subtly.

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep herself from retorting and tried valiantly to focus on the words floating on the pages in no distinguishable pattern. A fine education was simply not enough to turn you into a decent human being it would seem but she was not about to voice that opinion out loud.

Miss Bingley paid next to no attention to her cards. She was more concerned with telling everyone about Georgiana's many stellar accomplishments. It was not strictly necessary as there was no one present that did not know Georgiana and it made the object of her admiration uncomfortable.

A potent and unsettling ambience had descended upon the Netherfield party. When it erupted, Elizabeth would prefer not to be near. She closed her book and excused herself by her need to look in on her sister. Bingley sent his regards to Jane and Elizabeth smiled, nodded and left.

Hurried steps followed her progress towards the stairs. She halted and turned slowly to see who had followed her.

“Do not dare judge me, Elizabeth!”

“I am not, Georgiana, my judging days are over after I discovered how little I actually knew.”

“You have been so quiet this evening. I thought you did not approve of me.”

Elizabeth wanted to say that not everything revolved around her but she opted for a pardon.

“I am sorry you felt neglected, Georgiana. My mind is somewhat occupied by my sister's illness. I promise to be more attentive tomorrow but I have to see my sister now. I have been gone for too long already...”

“Yes, of course, I am glad we are still friends, Elizabeth. We had a lot of fun in Ramsgate, did we not?”

“Yes, it was a pleasant time. Excuse me...”

Elizabeth curtsied and hurried up the stairs. Jane was awake when she entered the room but not at all well. Elizabeth cursed herself for taking so long to return. The dinner had been far from pleasant with the Darcy siblings on tenterhooks. Not that she blamed them but Mr Darcy's clandestine glances in his sister’s direction combined with Mrs Wickham's blatant ignorance had been painful to watch.

The fever was raging and Jane was burning up. She diligently applied the cold cloth to her brow for several hours, until early morning when the fever lost its fierce grip and Jane fell into a deep, restful sleep.

XxX

Georgiana was actively avoiding him, it could be no two minds about it. She had been up uncommonly early and breakfasted before him, it was practically unheard of. He could not remember it ever happening before. She was out, Bingley's footman had informed him, strolling the garden. Something in his gut told him she might not be alone.

With determined strides, he exited the French doors in the parlour, not bothering to fetch his greatcoat. 

He was right, voices carried in the quiet October morning. By the direction of the voices, he guessed the rose garden which turned out to be correct.  
Wickham was leaning casually upon an arbour while Georgiana stood before him, chatting away. Wickham lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. The look in his eyes gave Darcy pause.  
Unfortunately, he trod on a twig. Alerting the newlyweds of his presence.

“I believe my cue for departing has just come upon us. Gooday, Georgiana, I will be back for supper.”

“Must you?”

“Yes, I must.”

Wickham gave Darcy a quick nod and smiled to Georgiana before he walked away.

Darcy was left, staring after him, conjecturing all the vile things he would like to do to the reprobate. Punch him, flog him, dip him in honey and tie him to an anthill...  
If he thought Georgiana would ever speak to him again after he had performed all three, he would not hesitate. The certainty that it would drive his sister further away was the only thing holding him back. He needed her to see reason before he acted in any shape or form but how? Stealing a glance in her direction, he could see the firm set of her jaw. She was expecting an attack, he had to be wise or she would not listen to him but what to say? What could possibly convince a young woman in love to abandon the husband of her own choice?   
How did one rescue someone who had no wish to be saved?  
Lord Matlock could probably get Wickham to disappear but Mr Darcy wanted no blood on his hands, not even Wickham's.  
Perhaps damage control was the best he could do... 

“How did you enjoy London?”

“It was fine.” 

Great more than a monosyllabic answer. Perhaps he should just leave her be and wait until she came to him.

“I know Richard is back from Spain.”

“Yes, he visited Pemberley.”

“I thought he was in London.”

“He is now, we travelled South together.”

“Have you spoken to him about my dowry? Does he refuse to sign the settlement?”

“I do not know. I have not broached the subject. Uncle came as well, you can imagine his sentiments. He wants the marriage annulled.”

“There is no ground for an annulment.”

“There is, you did not have the consent of your guardians and the anvil marriage is difficult to prove. He has several options he is looking into, Georgiana. You could not possibly have thought you would encounter no resistance once the deed was done.”

“I expected resistance but I did not believe a legal marriage, fully consummated could be made void.”

“Not void exactly but you could choose separate bed and board or pretend the wedding did not happen at all.”

“I thought you abhorred disguise.”

“I do.”

“You should know it is too late. We have been to the theatre and the Vauxhall gardens where we encountered several people known to you.”

Darcy could not stifle the groan. She was right. Too much time had passed and too many people knew about the marriage. Georgiana could be with child.  
He harboured no illusions she would agree to a swift clandestine journey to Scotland if that should be the case.

Utterly defeated, he turned back to the house and the sanctity of his chamber. He needed to think... Mayhap a hard ride on Swiftsilver would prove more productive than hiding in his room. He was too distraught to change his attire. Instead, he veered towards the stable and ordered his steed saddled. 

XxX

Elizabeth was late for breakfast, only Georgiana was present when she entered.   
The ambience between them was awkward at best. Elizabeth tried to think of something to say to break the ice. Chances were they would have to get along for a day or two more. Jane was a little bit better but by no means ready to be moved. She had frightened her the previous night, the brittle improvement she would not challenge by subjecting her sister to a cold ride in the carriage.

“How was London?” Elizabeth inquired nonchalantly whilst sipping her tea.

Georgiana looked at her strangely, like she had asked a particularly worrisome question.

“A bit boring, to be frank. George was out most of the day, trying to find employment. I had not thought it would be so much trouble finding a vacant rectory. We lived in Mrs Young’s a boarding house on Edward street, not a fashionable area of town... Too close to Cheapside and the New Gate prison. I worried constantly that an escaped prisoner would come barging into my room and steal all my valuables.”

“That must have been distressing,” Elizabeth muttered while her mind riled with the information. “Did you say Mrs Young owns a boarding house?”

“Yes, but it is not much to boast about. It was rundown and the location, as I mentioned, left much to be desired.”

“But... If she owns a boarding house, why would she need an occupation?” The words left Elizabeth’s mouth before she had the wherewithal to stop them.

“I very much doubt she earns much. Perhaps she has debts, I do not know. By the state of the building and her other guests, I guess it cannot be much.”

“I am sorry to hear you did not enjoy London.”

“It was not all bad. We went to the theatre once and visited the Vauxhall pleasure garden but not much else. As I said, George was much occupied and did not have time for the more pleasurable pursuits. He was lucky to run into Captain Denny who offered him the position of Captain in the militia. Does he not look dashing in his red coat? He is so smart, he will rise to a Colonel in no time and then he will find us a home.   
I have not given up hope to receive my dowry though. My brother has an ingrained sense of justice, he will come around when his ire has settled.”

Elizabeth was not so sure... He had been angry at Gretna Green but she believed he felt more grieved at the moment. Not that she knew his thoughts or feeling but Mr Darcy did not come across as furious. Bereft was a more apt description. 

“You have the superior knowledge of your brother. Speaking of siblings, I must get back to my sister. Have a pleasant day, Georgiana.” 

Elizabeth curtsied and hurried back to her sister with a lot on her mind.

XxX

Elizabeth contemplated sending for her mother but decided against it. Jane was not well enough to get out of bed to travel the short distance home and she was certain her mother would insist she should stay as long as possible to secure Mr Bingley.  
There was enough tension in the house to spare the residents an even bigger onslaught of Bennets. She did not venture down again until it was time for supper. Her mother had been foresighted and added Elizabeth’s best evening gown. It was the same gown she had worn to Dr Livingstone's dinner party. The irony did not escape her...  
After ensuring Jane was comfortably settled with a maid, Elizabeth joined the other residents of Netherfield, in the parlour in anticipation of dinner.  
Mr Wickham had joined his wife, sending Mr Darcy to a window to gaze unseeingly into the garden. His bearing was stiff and uncomfortable. How he must suffer...   
Elizabeth felt her chest constricts just by the thought. 

Dinner was announced, Miss Bingley had exhausted the topic of Georgiana and her new husband. She latched on to Mr Darcy's arm when they removed to the dining room. Bingley sensed the discord between the Darcy siblings and offered Georgiana his arm, urging Mr Wickham to join him on his other side. He offered his arm to Louisa, leaving it to Mr Hurst to escort Elizabeth.

Mr Wickham was universally charming man, he had Mr Bingley and Louisa eating out of the palm of his hand no matter how much Mr Bingley tried to resist. He felt some compassion towards his friend who had lost his sister to a man a lot sooner than he would have liked but Mr Wickham was delightfully entertaining. He regaled the entire table with the antics of the recruits he was training to become fearsome warriors. They sounded more like a litter of misbehaved puppies...

“How is your sister, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy's deep baritone jolted Elizabeth out of her reveries and a lovely smile spread on her countenance.

“A little bit better, I believe. I hope she will be able to join our little party for a spell this evening after dinner.”

“I am relieved to hear it,” the gentleman replied.

“Mr Darcy, what good news. We shall soon have our house to our selves.” Miss Bingley whispered loudly enough for the entire table to be made aware of her sentiments.

“It is hardly my house, Miss Bingley. Please, inform me if I have overstayed my welcome.”

Miss Bingley used the rest of the meal to gush over Mr Darcy to inform him of how welcome his presence was at Netherfield. Elizabeth was left with the exact opposite impression. It was time to call for her mother but rather than ask her to send the carriage, she invited her to come and gauge Jane’s condition for herself. That should make sure there was a carriage to convey them home on the morrow. Mrs Bennet had sent a note with her garments, instructing her to stay for at least a full week but Elizabeth had no such intentions.

“How intriguing, Mr Wickham. You must tell us about your experiences in the war.”

“I hardly think that is a subject for delicate ladies, Mrs Hurst,” Wickham demurred. 

He managed to look contrite, bowing his head with a slightly crooked smile grazing his lips. He knew how to work the ladies, Elizabeth thought wryly. Unaware she was frowning.

As soon as the meal finished, Elizabeth collected her sister from her chamber. Wrapped in a shawl, Jane managed to reach the parlour and situate herself close to the fire. Bingley was there within a blink of an eye, making sure that Jane was a comfortable as possible. Mr and Mrs Hurst sat at the card table with the Wickham's. Darcy sat in a corner, reading his book with Miss Bingley hovering above him, trying to read over his shoulder. Mr Darcy tried to feign ignorance at her presence but the stiffness in his bearing belied his success. Had this been two months prior, Elizabeth would have rejoiced at his uncomfortable posture. Now, she took no pleasure in it and closed her book.

“Will you take a turn around the room with me, Miss Bingley. I find it refreshing after sitting so long in one altitude...”

Miss Bingley looked bewildered but noticing Mr Darcy's attentions had been alerted, she took Elizabeth’s offered arm and sauntered beside her. 

“Will you not join us, Mr Darcy?”

“No, I thank you. You can only have two motives and I will interfere with either.”

“What can he mean, do you understand him?” Miss Bingley asked Elizabeth with a smirk on her countenance.

“By no means, Miss Bingley but I am certain he means to be severe on us. It would be best to ask him nothing about it.”

“Oh, do tell us what you mean, Mr Darcy.”

Elizabeth had smiled to take the edge of her words but Miss Bingley had not noticed. Mr Darcy had and a flash of mischief wracked his stoic mind. He could be charming and work the ladies when he set his mind to it. Wickham was not the only one with affable qualities.

“I am happy to oblige you, Miss Bingley. I believe that either you are in each other’s confidence or... You are conscious of your figures appear to the greatest advantage by walking. If it is the first, and I will get in your way. If it is the second, I can admire you much better from here.”

Mr Darcy regarded them steadily whilst Mr Bingley chuckled at his jest. Elizabeth thought that if had he known her treacherous thoughts, he would not have taunted her so. He must think as little of her as he did of Miss Bingley or worse if she was being honest.

“I am all astonishment! How shall we punish such a speech?”

“Punish, Miss Bingley? I am of no mind of ruining a flattering compliment by giving out penalties. He will be sufficiently aggrieved when we shower him with our undying devotion.”

“Miss Elizabeth, he cannot possibly have meant you.”

“I am inclined to agree with you, Miss Bingley. I have not your fashionable style, nor air and manner of walking.”

Miss Bingley preened and smiled coquettishly at Mr Darcy who looked a tad red in his cheeks. Elizabeth was right, he was not one to throw thinly veiled bawdy remarks with any resemblance of equilibrium. Miss Bingley, however, chose to discern what flattered herself the most. Although Elizabeth by no means had paid her any compliments. Miss Bingley's ostentatious style, supercilious air and studied manner of walking was not something she strived to achieve for herself.


	12. An Unpleasant Guest

Chapter 12 An Unpleasant Guest 

The next morning, Elizabeth sent a note to her mother before she went on her morning constitutional. Jane was well enough to manage on her own, not that she had even awakened yet.  
She had envisioned a longer stroll through the woodland but a bluish-grey Great Dane had other plans. He met her by the Magnolia with a stick in his mouth and sorrowful eyes. Elizabeth had not the heart to pass up his silent request and took the stick from his mouth and threw it as far as she could manage. The dog bolted towards the stick and returned happily back to drop the stick at her feet whilst barking and wagging his tail.

“Hush, you will awaken the entire house. Come, let us move a little away from right below the windows.”

The dog seemed to understand and walked happily at her side with his eyes fixed on her countenance. He was uncommonly attentive. The mutt at home would have paid attention to the stick, not the carrier. He certainly made a pleasant walking companion.

A refreshing stroll in the garden later, Elizabeth went to the library with the books she had borrowed from Mr Bingley's meagre selection. He was not much of a reader it would seem...

She did not notice Mr Darcy at first. He sat eerily still, staring unseeingly into the tome in his hands. Deep in thought, he had not even noticed her arrival.   
Her heart went out for him. The burden he carried with his estate, the expectations of his family and his inherent care for his sister must weigh heavily on his shoulders.   
Elizabeth had expected a fight to ensue when the Wickhams descended upon them but Mr Darcy seemed to deal with everything in a rational and calm manner. Perhaps with the exception of their encounter at Gretna Green. His masque had crumbled on that occasion but she had been particularly provoking. She could easily pardon his conduct on that occasion. Hers had been no less questionable...

Her pride in her abilities to discern character and his prejudice against those below him in consequence. No! She could not claim it. He had not shown any form of superiority on their travel home nor at Pemberley. It must be her personally, he did not like. The thought made her draw a sharp breath of air which inevitably alerted Mr Darcy to her presence.

“Excuse me, Mr Darcy. It was not my intention to disturb your solitude.”

She hastened to put away the books and turned hastily out of the room to leave the master of Pemberley in peace.

XxX

Mrs Bennet had brought with her all of their younger sisters, they were currently taking over the Netherfield parlour with their exaggerated praise of the house. Elizabeth cringed but tried not to give any outward appearance of it.  
She had to conjecture, out of thin air, some nonsense about poetry driving away love to avert the attention from her mother's ramblings on one of Jane’s supposedly lost suitors. Mr Darcy had rightfully questioned the validity of such an absurd notion. She felt she had reined herself in nicely, not that she had fooled Mr Darcy. It was preferable he thought her a little light in the head compared to letting her mother continue unchecked. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were already sending each other clandestine glances, rolling their eyes. 

Lydia even had the audacity to beg for a ball. Mr Bingley immediately welcomed the notion, shortly followed by Miss Bingley who proclaimed it should be a ball in the honour of the newlyweds. Her acquaintances from London were likely to stir from their pleasurable haunts in town if she could get the distinction of hosting the first ball in Mr and Mrs Wickham's honour.

Mrs Bennet was flummoxed as a ready to depart Jane entered the parlour before her mother had the time to visit her in the sickroom. Served as a fait accompli, she had not much choice but begrudgingly allow her daughters home.

The Bennet sisters showed their gratitude towards Mr Bingley and thanked him heartily for his hospitality while he escorted Jane safely to the Bennet carriage.

XxX

Their respite lasted a day before the dreaded cousin, Mr Collins, arrived at Longbourn. He immediately sought out Elizabeth as his future companion. Elizabeth strongly suspected her mother had something to do with him choosing her over Jane, her mother was not a soft whisperer... 

She soon found herself on his arm, heading for Meryton and her aunt Phillips. Even her mother had tired of his incessant chatter about his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and wanted him out of the house forthwith. Her daughters were excellent sacrificial lambs in this respect and she had no qualms in foisting him upon her sister, Mrs Phillips. Meryton's mistress of knowledge, the one to turn to if you were wondering what your neighbours were doing...

They arrived in Meryton where the militia had become a familiar feature in the few days they had camped on Flynn’s western field.  
Kitty and Lydia ran ahead to greet Captain Carter and Lieutenant Chamberlain, two particular favourites of theirs. Both Elizabeth and Jane tried to stop them but not much could derive their attention from the young lads. Certainly not two older, boring sisters and a ridiculous parson. 

A movement to her left caught her eyes and her ears. The Wickhams were quarrelling around the corner from the square but their voices carried the short span.

“...it is only for a while, Georgiana. You know I cannot support the both of us on a Captain’s salary. Besides, your friends seem happy with your company.”

“Of course, but I hate being apart from you.”

“I know, my love. It is difficult but it has to be endured.”

Well, not a quarrel exactly. More of a complaint, really. She wondered if she would ever feel bereft without someone at her side. At the moment, running away felt the safest option where matters of the heart were concerned.

Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy came riding towards them. Mr Bingley reined in his horse the moment he laid eyes on Jane who had just reached Lydia's and Kitty's side by the officers. The admonishment she was about to deliver died on her lips as soon as she spotted the interest of her heart. She blushed at the thought of Bingley overhearing her and curtsied low to hide her countenance.

Mr Darcy, however, had his eyes fixed over Elizabeth’s companions head.   
Mr Wickham came strolling with his sister on his arm, smiling and greeting everyone as dear friends. The strange creature attached to Miss Elizabeth made some awkward remarks. Presenting himself as the heir to Longbourn to Mr Wickham. The Bennet sisters did not protest so it must be true, although he must be the heir presumptive rather than the heir apparent. Yet, he wore a parson's collar which meant he must be ordained. Mr Wickham took an eager interest at once, inquiring if he knew any vacancies or if indeed his was about to be vacant. Mr Collins, as his name was, had little feeling and proclaimed he would not become so until Mr Bennet passed. What an utterly horrible utterance to perform in front of the gentleman's daughters. Elizabeth wrenched her hand from Mr Collins tight grip and declared she had contracted a sudden headache and would return home. Mr Collins offered to escort her home but she declined stating her aunt would feel bereft of an introduction should he turn so close to her threshold. Mr Collins offered profuse compliments to Elizabeth’s forethought. The lady herself seemed unimpressed by the praise and left rather abruptly.

Elizabeth was fighting back tears and hastened her steps away from her current company. As soon as she was out of sight of the town square, she veered off from the road onto a path. Preferring not to encounter anyone. Mr Collins’s marked attention had left her with no illusions towards his purpose. No hints of her disinterest seemed to curb him. The thought of being courted by the toad when she knew a much better-suited man existed, was abhorrent to her.   
In addition, the crestfallen look on Mr Darcy's countenance when his sister and Mr Wickham joined them had cut her deeply. It was like he then and there had acknowledged his defeat. Shattering his hopes and dreams for his sister. It was heart-wrenching to watch. That no one else had not noticed was unfathomable.

She dearly hoped Mr Bingley would stay in the area but her rational mind wanted Mr Darcy to leave. Her upset equanimity was getting harder to conceal, her fraught emotions ran high when the sight of his pain could render her so unstable and unsuitable for company.   
She was on the summit of Oakham Mount without even noticing how she got there. Blinded by tears she lowered herself to the ground at the foot of a massive oak. With her back against the sturdy trunk, she rested her head in her hands. She had to stop this self-torture. Perhaps marrying Mr Collins was not so bad? It would take her away from Hertfordshire and Kent was nowhere near Derbyshire.

XxX

He did not know why he had followed her other than it was a gentlemanly thing to do. One should make sure an ailing lady arrived safely at home when suffering. Albeit she had not ventured home but veered off into the forest which was by no means a shortcut to her home. Indignant, he guessed she had lied to escape a tiresome company and a dreaded tea engagement. He halted Swiftsilver, still concealed by the trees. He should turn around but something in the set of her shoulders made him wary. She had nothing of the exuberance she had exhibited one the morning of her departure. Frolicking in the garden with his Great Dane, Tempest. He had two others at home. The black male Blaze and the white bitch Frost but he never travelled anywhere without Tempest if he could help it. The dog took to Miss Elizabeth like she was a meaty bone, except he had not chewed on her... The blasted dog had even escorted her to the carriage when she departed, he knew because he had been observing from a window on the first floor. The dog had actually whined when the carriage had disappeared out of sight. He had to run down the stairs and rein him in or the mongrel would have followed Miss Elizabeth home. The dog had been utterly bewitched by a lady he had just met. Unheard of...

Elizabeth reached the summit. For some reason, he had come to expect some sort of celebratory performance for escaping so easily. Instead, she leaned on the large oak stem and sank to the ground. Hid her head in her hands whilst her shoulders shook. It was far from the picture he had envisioned and completely out of her character.   
Rightfully, she had cried in his presence but those were angry tears. He somehow surmised that these were not...  
What could have brought this despair to her lithe frame?  
His thoughts went back to their recent encounter in Meryton's square. She had seemed her usual self, perhaps a bit vexed but not sorrowful. The toadying parson had paid her marked attention, could he had forced himself on her in some way? No, he could not imagine Elizabeth tolerate his company if it had been so. What was it the ridiculous man had pronounced? He was the heir to Longbourn...  
Where they promised to each other or perhaps even betrothed? It would be considered a blessing to a family of five unmarried daughters of an entailed estate to secure their position at Longbourn but why Elizabeth? Jane was the eldest and the most beautiful if one could overlook the eyes and the softness of her hair, curves... Better not let his mind wander there.   
Jane seemed more malleable and sweet, she always smiled serenely. While Elizabeth had a wild streak in her character that came forth when she thought no one was looking. Like the last time he had encountered her on Oakham Mount, running like a hoyden down the steep slope. Risking life and limbs for the thrill of it or avoiding him. She could have seen him approaching and fled.

He had seen her angry. Not on her own behalf but Georgiana’s. Slights towards her own person were fended off with a sweet archness, leaving her opponent blissfully unaware they had just been insulted. He almost chuckled at Miss Bingley who had preened at what she perceived as praise.  
He had to admit it was masterfully done.

He had seen her happy, especially when Jane and her father had arrived at Pemberley, when she first lay her eyes on his magnificent library (her words not his) and when she was allowed to venture out of doors after her bout of illness. The latter he could sympathies with, he loathed being cooped up inside, especially if he was ill.   
He had seen her serious and contemplative. Most of her time spent at Netherfield, she appeared restrained and thoughtful. 

Elizabeth rose from the ground and brushed off her skirts. He reverted deeper into the woodland to avoid being seen but her gaze was trained in another direction, Netherfield. She must have seen something as she exclaimed loud enough for her voice to carry to where he stood.

The traitorous son of a...   
Quite literally.  
A blueish-grey, massive beast was running up the hill. Elizabeth needed hardly bend to hug him while she laughed gaily. The bloody mutt had run away from home for the first time since he got him. What was it Miss Elizabeth had that made him forget years of training and run off like a beast in heat? She must have bewitched him, there was no other explanation.

He dragged Swiftsilver through the thicket and came out when he was on the Netherfield side of the path. He mounted and spurred Swiftsilver into a brisk gallop worthy of his stallion's name. Tempest was about to get his ears waxed...

He must have looked as angry as he felt because Miss Elizabeth withdrew a few paces when he arrived at the summit.

“Tempest!”

He expected him to come to his side in an instant but the beast had the audacity to flick his teeth at him. He jumped off his steed and grabbed his collar. 

“Naughty boy are you? Running away to frolic with the pretty lady?”

Mr Darcy quirked an eyebrow to his dog that had the wherewithal to look contrite.

“I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth, I shall drag this disobedient rascal home and put a leash on him until he learns not to run away. He has never done it before so I have indulged him and let him run loose. It will not happen again.”

He dared a glance at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks had red blotches. 

“No harm was done, Mr Darcy. He is a charming lad, I have become quite taken with him since I stayed at Netherfield. We may have frolicked in the garden at one point. I hope you do not mind.”

“I have nothing against frolicking, Miss Elizabeth, but I am vexed he ran away. I have trained him for years and thought he knew better.”

Tempest hung his head as he had understood everything he said.

“Oh come now, Mr Darcy. Look how apologetic he is...”

“I doubt you would excel as dog trainer, Miss Elizabeth. If you cannot withstand a pair of remorseful eyes.”

“On the contrary, I believe you get further with the sweet than the sour, Mr Darcy. The dog aims to please.”

“As he should, it is I who feed him.”

Elizabeth regarded him intently. Perhaps he had come across as somewhat unfeeling towards his dog but he dearly loved the monster despite him not being in his good graces at the moment.  
Tempest dropped to the ground and put his paw over his eyes. A trick he had learned as a youngster would melt his owner’s heart. Darcy could not retain the chuckle that escaped his throat.

“Oh my! Turning to theatrics are we. I must investigate if they have an opening on Drury Lane for an oversized mongrel with a penchant for mischief.”

Elizabeth hunched down and scratched his neck. The dog turned slowly to his back so that her hand could touch his belly where he wanted the most to be rubbed. Darcy was surprised he did not smile wickedly when she complied.

“You are spoiling my dog, Miss Elizabeth.”

“He deserves it for being such a charming gentleman.”

Elizabeth rose and curtsied. “I have to return home. Thank you for letting me indulge your dog. He is very friendly and utterly adorable.”

“I am sure it was his pleasure, Miss Elizabeth. Gooday!” Darcy bowed and turned to descend the hill. He had to call out to Tempest twice to make him follow himself and not the tempting lady. Perhaps she had food in her pocket, the mutt did have an impressive appetite.


	13. A Ball To Remember

Chapter 13 A Ball To Remember 

The Bennets were, as usual, among the late arrivals. Mr Bingley was standing on his toes to peer over the heads of his guests. A wide grin crossed his face as he lay eyes on Jane. His sentiments were written in his expression. Elizabeth could not be happier. Her sister was the most deserving lady she knew. Hopefully, her father would rein in her sisters now that he had deigned to come to the Netherfield ball. A rare happenstance when a ball was held at the Meryton Assembly rooms.

Elizabeth is on her toes, trying to locate Charlotte. It is not of much aid as she can still not peer over the heads of the crowd. Jane was hijacked by Mr Bingley and it is kind of awkward to roam around on your own, at least at the beginning of the evening. Elizabeth feels a little out of place. She has donned the new white silk gown with embroidered roses, gifted to her by her aunt but it is too extravagant compared to what she would wear to the Meryton assembly. Her hair is more elaborate than her usual chignon. Jane has assembled her curls on the top of her head and adorned it with pearls. In addition, she has one enticing long curl resting over her shoulder, down to her décolletage. It is too much, too flashy compared to her usual apparel. 

Fortunately, Miss Bingley has invited some friends from town, even more ostentatiously attired than herself.  
Sir William halts her tracks, complimenting her radiant looks. He is so sweet and puts Elizabeth at ease accompanied by Mrs Golding who makes similar remarks. Colonel Foster and his wife join their little party. Their spirits are high and Elizabeth taunts the Colonel about the ball he had promised to hold. Mrs Foster love the idea and Elizabeth is certain it will come to pass.   
She excuses herself and wanders towards the refreshment room. 

Mary King interrupted her progress by requesting the name of her dressmaker. Mary's newly inherited fortune must be burning a hole in her pocket. She is a little discouraged that the gown is made in town as her uncle is taking her to Liverpool. He was a severe gentleman and disliked the onslaught of young bucks in form of the militia currently encamped at Flynn's western field. He thought it too much of a temptation for the weaker female sex.

Lydia came running, looking for Kitty. Elizabeth made her walk serenely away lest she rips off her borrowed shoe roses. Lydia complied, at least for as long as she was within eyesight.   
Elizabeth sighed and proceeded to peruse the elaborately adorned rooms. Miss Bingley may be a lot of things but she was an excellent hostess for a ball. Netherfield sparkled in candlelight and bloomed with flowers.  
Denny and Carter wanted to know where Lydia was and for some strange reason informed her that Captain Wickham was delayed. Elizabeth frowned and inquired why they thought she needed to know.

“Beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth, but the Captain gave the impression you were a great friend.”

“No harm was done, Captain Denny. I would call it a slight acquaintance but who am I to judge.” She laughed the awkwardness away and hurried along.

Where could Charlotte be hiding? She did not find out in a good while as Mr Collins caught up with her to claim the promised first set.   
Elizabeth plastered a smile on her countenance it would prove difficult to maintain. Numerous of awkward turns and steps no one had invented later, the torture was over. Or so she thought until Mr Collins took a step closer and announced:

“It is my intention, to remain close to you for the rest of the evening.”

Elizabeth was not aware her carefully crafted countenance had fallen away, leaving a stunned expression with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth.  
The latter she closed abruptly as her jaws tightened and her eyes lost some of their sparkles. She could not muster a smile at such a looming threat as Mr Collins company for an entire evening. 

Mr Collins kept true to his words until she found Charlotte in another parlour. Mr Collins was sent to the opposite side of the house on a hunt for a glass of punch for the two ladies. Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief as his back disappeared amongst the throng of revellers.   
Charlotte grabbed both her hands and looked worriedly at her friend.

“Lizzy, what is the matter?”

“Oh, nothing really. Other than being stalked by the most odious man I have ever met, I am fine.”

“Mr Collins is not a bad man, Lizzy,” Charlotte admonished. “He is just in need of a little guidance from a prudent woman.”

“I am not that prudent, Charlotte. In fact, my mother frequently calls me imprudent.”

“I believe your mother's phrase is impudent, not imprudent, as you well know. Do you want me to relieve you from some of his company this evening?”

“I cannot ask it of you, Charlotte. It is a fate I would be reluctant to foist upon my worst enemy and not at all on my best friend.”

“Nonsense, Lizzy. I assure you, it would be no trouble at all.”

“You truly are too good for this world, Charlotte. An angel, heaven-sent to rescue my equilibrium for the evening. I will never be able to repay you but I am at your service for the rest of my life if you could give me a half-hour respite before I strangle the man.”

Charlotte just laughed. Knowing Elizabeth well enough to know she was jesting. Elizabeth was not that sure herself...

XxX

The throng was as bad as expected. Besides, these people were not as accustomed to the unspoken rules of conduct to move safely from one end of the room to another without spilling the contents of their glass onto some unfortunate reveller.  
Therefore, the master of Pemberley kept in the background. That and the certainty that Wickham would be there. He was not looking forward to meeting him and kept the entrance within his sight. He had not arrived yet and Georgiana fretted that he may be held up in town too long to attend.

Mr Darcy had danced the first set with his sister as her husband had not shown his face. She was currently dancing with Mr Bingley, they made a handsome couple although it was much too late for such thoughts.  
Elizabeth had disappeared after the first set which was not so strange taking into account the dance partner she had been burdened with. He wondered what he had said to her that had wiped all the joy from her countenance in an instant. Perhaps he had made his intentions known?   
He had been stunned when she walked into the ballroom in a magnificent and fashionable white gown. Styled like any of the ladies in the upper crust. She was breathtakingly beautiful and moved with an inherent grace that could not be taught. Worst of all, the thoughts of her gown had brought back memories of another night, another ballroom, another gown, the same petit brunette.   
He could not remember the exact words he had spoken but he remembered the sorrowful expression that had followed his thoughtless statements. He had regretted his harsh words but could do nothing about it without creating an even more awkward moment. He had been relieved when Colonel Brandon had rescued the situation. He had called the next morning and expressed his opinion about Darcy's conduct. Darcy had apologised to Colonel Brandon but he was not the one he owed an apology...

It was strange seeing Elizabeth here, amongst friends and neighbours. They flocked around her, leaving her side with a wider smile than before they encountered her.  
Had it happened immediately after Gretna Green, he would have been surprised she was so well liked.  
Knowing her a little bit better, he knew she could make people laugh. She was perfectly able to behave with propriety and act serious when needed. Even suffusing Miss Bingley’s barbs with sweet archness.

He guessed he could ask for her hand for a dance. That would save her a half-hour in the wretched parson’s company. What was he thinking? Engaging the wildcat he had encountered in Gretna Green for a dance. She must have bewitched him almost as much as his dog.  
Mr Darcy hurried to the sanctity of Netherfield's library. To prohibit his treacherous self, acting on his inclination. 

Safely ensconced in the familiar room he mutters to himself. “What I would not give for some contented peace and quiet...”

“When you find some, will you let me know?”

Darcy startled, he had thought he was alone in the room, the voice had come from nowhere. Was he imagining it?

A slight scrape of a chair alerted him to her whereabouts. Hidden in a darkened corner, Miss Elizabeth had curled up in a chair that creaked as she righted herself and slipped her dainty feet into her discarded slippers.

“I beg you pardon my outburst, I thought I was quite alone.”

“I would hardly deem your low whisper an outburst, Mr Darcy. However, I sympathise with the sentiment. It would seem we are both out of fortune as very little peace and quiet are to be had at a ball...”

“Right...”

He left it hanging in the air in hope she would render him the same service as the last time they had encountered each other in the Netherfield library.

“You should have left the door open.”

“You may leave it ajar when you leave.” He had settled himself nicely in front of the hearth and was reluctant to move from the enticing flames.

“I wonder if you are aware of how rude you come across sometimes? Is it in your nature or is it just me who elicits your disdain?”

He turned sharply to look at her. She made him feel comfortable, too comfortable it might seem as he did not filter what came out of his mouth in her presence.

“I beg your pardon. I somehow conjectured that you would remove yourself from my presence. You seem to be of some haste to depart when you encounter me alone.”

He rose to open the door slightly ajar. Not closed yet not open enough to invite other people in. He craved solitude, Elizabeth counted as solitude. She was never invasive on his privacy and seemed able to determine when he sought quietude.  
He resumed his seat and gazed at the flames licking the log.  
She did not remove herself, neither did she speak. The silence lasted for a quarter of an hour and he was the one to break it.

“I owe you an apology...”

“Me! Why?”

“For the hurtful words I spoke about you at Mr Livingstone's dinner party.”

“Because you uttered the words or what you pronounced.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!”

“Please instruct me of what you would most like to hear and I will comply. I admit that I do not remember exactly what I said that night. I only remember the hurt in your eyes before you turned away.”

He had said too much, spoken to candidly. She would surely reject his offer of a truce on that offence alone.

“One should not remember what is best forgotten, Mr Darcy. I, myself, have decided not to give it another thought. Your pardon is accepted.”

Another period of silence ensued while Darcy tried to remember what he had uttered on the aforementioned evening when another conundrum he had trouble figuring out, entered his mind.

“Bingley is heading to town on the morrow.”

“Yes, I know. He mentioned it to Jane when they met in Meryton. He held some reservations towards making his dinner engagement at Longbourn on Thursday.”

“Caroline wants us to follow, Georgiana does not. I am at a loss of what to do.”

“That depends on who is in the greatest danger, Georgiana or Mr Bingley. Does town hold much danger for a gentleman such as Mr Bingley?”

Elizabeth could have cut off her tongue. Did she not want Mr Darcy to leave? She should encourage his sojourn to London, not speak against it.

“No, he is in far greater danger in Meryton which is why I am contemplating following him.”

“Pray, tell me what great dangers he may encounter in Meryton apart from the rabbit holes in the forest and a few talkative matrons?”

He had momentarily forgotten she was Jane's sister. She had that effect on his defences, they crumbled at her feet. How honest could he be?

“I am concerned he will enter into a marriage of unequal affection.”

“He does not care for Jane?”

“More than I have thought him capable of.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I do not perceive Mr Bingley as unfeeling...  
Oh! It is Jane, is it not? That has you in jitters.”

Elizabeth rose from her chair and approached his seat. She halted a foot from his person. Standing up, she was a little taller than his seated self and was currently glaring at him with her hands on her hips. 

“I do not get jitters.”

“One would think that one reserved person would recognise another.”

Mr Darcy's head snapped up to meet her eyes. 

“No one is that good in hiding their emotions. I have watched them carefully. While she is all smiles towards Mr Bingley, I perceive no difference in how she acts towards him compared to any of her other acquaintances.”

“She is shy, Mr Darcy. Afraid to enlist my mother’s expectations. Do you remember when we left Netherfield, my mother brought up a beau she had expected to propose to Jane after a poorly written poem?   
Jane was five and ten, her admirer was six and ten. Hardly marriageable age...  
She still brings it up, seven years later. Jane is guarded in company but if you ask Mr Bingley himself I am certain he has perceived her interest.”

“Bingley is modest to a fault. I am not as sure as you that he is secure in your sister’s regard but I have to bow to your greater knowledge of your sister.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“I wish you had rendered me the same leniency.”

She gasped, the Gretna Green debacle was entirely forgotten until this moment. How could she forget?  
She had offered him her apology, there was nothing more she could declare nor perform that would ever make amends.

“I will leave you now, Mr Darcy, with this thought. My sister cares deeply but conceals it well.”

She curtsied and hastened to the door.

“Wait!”

She paused with her hand on the door handle but did not turn.

“I beg your pardon. You have apologised and I have forgiven you. I should not have brought it up.”

“I doubt that, Mr Darcy.”

“Doubt what?”

“That you have forgiven me what is unforgivable...”

“I admit that my good opinion once lost is lost forever but you did not have it to begin with. In fact, I did not know you at all. My opinion of you has since then improved by our interactions and me understanding you better. I recognise that you had no malicious intent towards my sister. Just ignorance about the world that I cannot fault a sheltered country maiden. I wonder if it is wise to keep young girls in oblivion until they are married. Perhaps they would have been better equipped to choose rightly if they were well informed.”

Finally, she let go of the handle and faced him. 

“I do not know what level of ignorance you accuse me of but I assure you, I am not unaware of the depravity in the world in general. Especially in the upper crust where you belong.”

“Not all of the upper éclat is unprincipled but I see your point. This is not a subject I would like to have to shout across the room though. Please, have a seat. I have something I want to ask you.”

Elizabeth looked down at the floor for a moment before she decided to acquiesce to his proposition. She took a chair on the other side of the table, facing the fire as he was.

“It was not my intention to insult you, Miss Elizabeth. My experience with my sister has made me ponder certain aspects of society in general. I wonder what I should have done to prevent it. What could be done now...”

“Very little, I suspect. The deed is done and Georgiana seems happy with her choice. If she will remain so in the future is unlikely but she is a woman possessed, Mr Darcy, or rather a girl. In my experience, nothing will persuade her to part with him. I believe she is very much in love and will follow the drum with him if necessary. The pull of such emotions is difficult to resist for a woman fully grown. I would think it impossible to a more immature mind. You have the means to make it easier for them, Mr Darcy. At this juncture, I believe it is the best you can do.”

“Are you saying I should release her dowry?”

“I cannot say but what will happen when you all remove to town? Will she be camping in the tents on Flynn’s field? You have the means to make her life easier if you have the inclination.”

“You believe I have abandoned my sister?”

“No, not at all but you need to look towards the future. If you want to have your sister in your life, you will have to learn to tolerate Captain Wickham.”

Darcy groaned and rested his head in his hands.

“It will be difficult, I loathe the man.”

“Yes but you love your sister. In Captain Wickham's defence, he does seem to care for your sister and treat her well. I know you do not want to hear it.”

Mr Darcy looked at her with an incredulous expression gracing his countenance.

“How can you say he is treating her well when they do not even have a house to live in. Oh, I forgot, they have a tent.”

He practically spat the last few words at her. Elizabeth felt only calm, it was an emotional topic.

“I believe I would personally prefer to live in a tent with a caring man to a palace with a man that beat me into submission.”

“I guess it is a matter of perception, forgive me if I do not share your view.”

“You are a strong man, few are your physical superior, Mr Darcy. It is not strange you would not perceive violence as a great threat but to Georgiana, it is not insignificant.”

“I would have found her a husband who did not feel the need to beat his wife. Not all men are ogres, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I did not say so. I was trying to make you see that it could have been worse. It was farfetched, I know but it usually helps me when I am troubled, to try to see the merit in every situation I must endure. It is rarely all bad although I do admit that there are instances that make it difficult to find anything good.  
Your sister and her husband seem to share love and affection which is good.”

“Love,” he scoffed.

“Love conquers all or so they say. Do you not feel comfort in knowing that she has someone by her side that care for her on a personal level? A partner who is doing his best to better his situation although compared to what you wanted for her would not be much. She does have someone to lean on. She appears content albeit guilt-ridden.”

“Guilt-ridden?”

“Yes, she came after me on her first evening at Netherfield when I was on my way up the stairs to see to Jane. She worried that I was judging her which in the past might have been accurate. I believe she is judging herself and by her own thoughts, believe others to harbour the same sentiments.”

“While you have given me some food for thought... May I have the honour of your next dance, Miss Elizabeth?”

She did not jump at the request as he had envisioned. Usually, ladies showed their profuse gratitude when he asked for their hand but Elizabeth turned her lovely eyes to licking flames before she bowed her head and answered: “You may.”

“I have a question though before we join the others in the ballroom. How could Mrs Young need employment when she owns a boarding house on Edward Street? I understand it is not well kept but still...”

“I have not thought about it. She may have taken the position to remove herself from associations with trade while she hunted for a husband. I guess she has a male relative who manages her affairs at the boarding house. It certainly needs looking after.”

Mr Darcy had been given something to contemplate for later. At the moment he was eager to dance which was an uncommon state of affairs. 

The hallway was filled with people, no one paid them any notice exiting from their seclusion in the library. Too much punch had been consumed. They proceeded towards the ballroom where a set was coming to its conclusion but their progress was slow. It seemed like every other person had something to ask Miss Elizabeth. Had she seen he or she, where was the restroom, were they to have any supper soon? Mr Darcy stood silently at her side until she had answered and could take a few step forward until the next person wanted something from her. Elizabeth had patience in abundance and met everyone with smiling confidence.   
The applause rang from the ballroom, the previous set had ended, they needed to hurry if they were to join the next set.

The next person who stepped in their direction he just glared at which efficiently halted their tracks. Elizabeth noticed and looked between himself and Miss Maria with a frown but let herself be guided to the dancefloor.

Miss Elizabeth was an excellent dancer. Perhaps it was all the walking in different terrains that made her so agile but she had an inherent elegance suited for dancing. She moved her light and pleasing figure around the circle with ease and grace.  
Darcy was not so bad himself, years of practice had made him proficient and rigorous exercise kept him fit.  
He noticed that many of Elizabeth’s neighbours were keeping an eye on them. He hoped it was because of the superior dancing and not their prolonged absence. They had done nothing wrong though. Just talked with the door ajar to uphold propriety.  
Elizabeth’s eyes were twinkling, he felt anticipation for what she would utter next. Time spent with Miss Elizabeth was never boring.

“I believe we are drawing some attention to ourselves, Mr Darcy. Perhaps you should smooth out the frown between your brows lest people will think you have been punished to stand up with me.”

Darcy had not noticed he was frowning, it was not intentionally. He smiled insincerely which produced a throaty laugh from Miss Elizabeth.

“That smile fools no one, Mr Darcy. Now they will say I am pestering you into acting out of character as well. Oh my, we will be the talk of the town. Poor Mr Darcy, suffering the whims of the Longbourn harridan.”

“At your service Madame, I will obey.”

Another trickle of melodic laughter escaped her lips. A pleasing sound, especially because he was not used to be the source of someone’s merriment. It was a nice change, to be able to make someone laugh.

“Are you certain you trust me with such power, Mr Darcy? I may take advantage in ways you had never imagined. Let me see, what mischief I could make...”

“I am not afraid of you...”

“Huge mistake, Mr Darcy. Let us start with renaming some of the magnificent features on your property, namely your waterfall Elizabeth’s Cascade and the hill behind Pemberley should be Elizabeth Mount. I would like to adopt your dog, Tempest, permanently and declare you the best partner for a dance. You are hereby committed to stand up with me once at every ball and assembly where we are both present.”

“Is that it!”

“No that was the beginning, I am certain I can think of something more given some time...”

Elizabeth was rudely interrupted by Sir William who came with thinly veiled suggestions about the growing expectation towards a union between Jane and Mr Bingley. Darcy's eyes followed Sir William's nod but it was not Mr Bingley who caught his attention. Behind them, Georgiana was dancing with her husband. They made a handsome couple, he had to admit, but handsomeness in itself brought little to marriage... 

Elizabeth felt Mr Darcy stiffen on her arm. Following his gaze, she knew it was not Jane and Bingley who had his attention but his sister.  
Mr Darcy kept with the rhythm and the steps but his attention was otherwise engaged. Elizabeth was at loss to rein him in or of it should even be attempted.  
Fortunately, the set ended and they stood opposite each other, applauding the musicians when supper was announced. She had not been aware they had danced the supper set. Mr Darcy showed no outward surprise but she knew he had not been aware. He stepped forward and offered her his arm when the line dissolved and people milled towards the dining room. She took it as another man approached them.

“Cousin Elizabeth, where have you been? I have been looking all over for you...”

“I have been dancing, Mr Collins, in the middle of the ballroom.”

“I will escort you to supper now.”

“She has an escort, Mr Collins,” a deep baritone interrupted the infuriating man.

“I am her cousin, Mr?”

Elizabeth stiffened, she had no choice but to introduce them.

“Mr Darcy, my cousin, Mr Collins. He is parson of the Hunsford parish in Kent. Mr Collins, Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”

The odious man clapped in glee for some strange reason that would soon become apparent.

“My esteemed patronesses nephew, how fortuitous to encounter a relative of the great Lady Catherine herself. I am pleased to inform you that your aunt was in excellent health when I left her, a sennight past. Your fiancée as well. A lovely lady, if I may be so bold to compliment such a delicate flower. She would suit the role of duchess with her refined manners and beauty of countenance.”

“I am surprised you have met my fiancée because I have yet to encounter the future Mrs Darcy, Mr Collins. Excuse me, I have a supper to attend.”

The man was left stunned speechless, a rare occurrence indeed, thought Elizabeth wryly as they weaved their way through the throng. It was such a blessing to have the tall and formidable Mr Darcy to plough the way through.

The supper became a torturous affair. Seated to close to her mother's outrageous exclamations and too far away from the soothing presence of Jane. The only advantage proved to be Mr Darcy's preoccupation with his sister and her husband. He was too distracted to pay any attention to her mother’s histrionics. A blessing when she knew he had reservations towards Jane's and Mr Bingley's growing affections.   
If she had alleviated some of his apprehensions by her candid description of Jane's virtues, she knew not. The next days would reveal his intentions to leave for town or prolong his stay. Elizabeth did not know which prospect she preferred. She had savoured their dance to her memory. It would sustain her on the dreary days, sure to come. It was more than she had hoped for when she had arrived at Mr Bingley's ball.


	14. Reconciliation

Chapter 14 Reconciliation 

Mr Collins had proposed in the most abominable way imaginable.   
Her mother had resorted to threats to force her into accepting. It was all too much and Elizabeth did what she thought was best, she ran.

Not towards Oakham Mount, it was well known as her favourite haunt. She was not of a mind to be found, not for a very long time.

Her father had a hunting lodge in the woods. It was the direction she chose although it was a long stretch to travel on foot which is why there was a need for a lodge in the first place.  
Lady Fortune was not with her, neither was Zeus, the Greek weather god. Half an hour into the woods and the rain started pelting down. Elizabeth took cover under a tree but it rained so heavily, the barren branches provided little protection. The cold crept into her bones when she stood still. She should have taken a coat but the shawl was all she had the wherewithal to grab in the crucial moment of departure. She had to press on. It would take her at least another couple of hours to get to the lodge. As it turned out, fifteen minutes was all she was afforded before her journey was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“You look like a drowning cat.”

“Thank you! I believe that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”

“Surely not, I have complimented you many times.”

“In your thoughts?”

“I must have mentioned your beautiful eyes on one occasion or other.”

“I assure you, you have not. I would have remembered.”

The compliment warmed her heart but offered no relief for her shivering body.

“Where are you heading? Perhaps I could escort you there.”

“I doubt it, Mr Darcy, and I would rather not say.”

“Have I interrupted a secret rendezvous? If so I must insist to accompany you back to your father.”

Elizabeth shuddered in revulsion.

“You are as far off the mark as you could possibly be, Mr Darcy. Have a good day, I must press on.”

Elizabeth turned her back and strode swiftly away quelling an urge to run. She heard nothing from behind for a few minutes. It did not last, Mr Darcy had decided to follow.

“If you explain your reason for wandering the woods in this appalling weather, I might let you continue on your foolish errand.”

“I could say it was none of your concern, Mr Darcy.”

“And I could just throw you over the back of my horse and have you safely ensconced in your home in ten minutes.”

Elizabeth halted and turned towards him.

“If you do, I will never forgive you. Not only would I be forced to ride a beast I fear but you will sentence me to a lifelong unwanted marriage. The very same you wanted to prevent Mr Bingley to enter. Albeit he would marry the most beautiful and sweet creature on all of England while I am left with the most odious excuse of a man I have ever met. Not to forget his overbearing patroness who according to him deems no triviality too small to not interfere.”

“You could come with me to Netherfield. I am certain Georgiana would enjoy your company and you could mediate a truce between brother and sister. I doubt your parents would come to Netherfield and air their private affairs.”

“You obviously do not know my mother...”

“With Bingley in town, he left early this morning, your mother will be cautious in stirring up trouble before he has returned safely or I will remind her that I might persuade him otherwise. I am not used to brook opposition, I can be intimidating when needed.”

“It is a forty-five minutes walk to Netherfield from here.”

“Is your destination closer?”

“No, it is a couple of hours left to my father’s hunting lodge.”

“I cannot in good conscience leave you here, unprotected. You need a dry change of clothes much sooner than that or you will surely catch a cold. It was not long ago you lay delirious with fever at Pemberley. You must ride with me until we reach the more travelled paths were I will dismount and walk the rest of the way.”

“It is not proper...”

“You would rather fall ill?”

“You will get wet, my clothes are soaked.”

“Have you not noticed? I am already wet. My greatcoat protects my inner garments, a soaked damsel will not matter.”

“I am afraid of your horse,” Elizabeth whispered.

“This gentle soul? Your fears are misplaced, Miss Elizabeth. He is like a lamb in horse clothes and he is Tempest's best friend. My dog is very discerning in who he befriends...”

Mr Darcy dismounted to aid Elizabeth up into the saddle. He flung himself up behind her and her frightened expression made him grab hold of her waist and hold her tight until he could feel her relax a little. A swift canter brought them quickly out of the forest, half a mile from Netherfield.  
Darcy jumped off and set a brisk pace while Elizabeth held on for dear life.  
At the edge of the garden, he lifted her down and ushered her before him to the main entrance. He threw Swiftsilver's reins to a waiting groom and hurried up the stairs.

“Where is Georgiana?” he inquired of the Netherfield butler as soon as they entered the door. 

“In the music room,” the butler replied while he tugged Mr Darcy's wet greatcoat off him.

To Elizabeth’s surprise, his attire underneath was dry, just as he had implied. She wanted one of those for her next ramble out of doors. She was shivering at the moment and could no longer feel her toes.

“Come,” Mr Darcy urged her forward.

Georgiana could not conceal her surprise when they entered.

“Look what I found in the garden. Miss Elizabeth was on her way to visit you when she was caught in the rain. I had hoped you could lend her some clothes, order a bath and see to her comforts.”

Georgiana regained her equilibrium after the initial shock admirably and assured her brother that Elizabeth was in safe hands.  
He bowed to his sister and conveyed something through his eyes that only his sister understood before he left.

Georgiana hurried Elizabeth to her chamber and ordered a bath to be drawn.

“I would not inconvenience the servants...”

“Nonsense, Elizabeth. You will be ill if we cannot get you warmed up. Besides, my brother cares for you. I would hate to see him more injured than what I have brought upon him.”

“Oh, you have got it all wrong, I am afraid. I am not in your brother's good books. I was running away from home when he came upon me in this bedraggled state. His apt description was a drowning cat...  
He is too much of a gentleman to let me die of cold in the woods and came up with the scheme of this visit. If you want me gone, I will leave immediately. It was never my intention to impose upon you nor your brother...”

“I know it is not my business but why would you run away from home? Oh, were you on your way to a clandestine meeting and my brother intercepted you?”

“Quite the contrary. I was running from an unwanted suitor and my persuasive mother. Neither was inclined to accept my rejection of his proposal.”

“Oh my...”

“My thoughts exactly...”

“One should never be forced into an unwanted union. I know I complain about the state of Mrs Young's boarding house and I am not favourably inclined towards living in a tent but I do not regret marrying George. I love him with all my heart and everything that I am. He may not love me as much as I love him but he is kind and cares deeply about my wellbeing. I have to live with the consequences of my actions but I know my own mind. I do not repent marrying Mr Wickham but I do regret the injury I have caused my brother. He has not acted as I would have thought at all. He has not called Wickham out or beat him to a pulp as I feared but he suffers his own perceived faults in silence. It is awful to watch.”

“Your brother should not blame himself. It was my poor judgement and horrible advice that led you astray...”

“You and my brother have much in common. You both blame yourself when the truth is that nothing you could have done would have made any difference. I was set in my course of action, long before I met you and I wilfully deceived my brother. I knew Mr Wickham would be at Ramsgate. It was I who followed him there, I who hired Mrs Young. I knew she would do my bidding. She was a teacher at the seminary I attended and told me her great sorrow. Forced to marry a man her mother had settled upon, forsaking the love of her life. She sympathised and agreed to be my accomplice. Cohorts in crime if you will. I own my destiny, Elizabeth. Nothing you or my brother could have done would have changed the outcome.”

Elizabeth was stunned silent. She looked at the defiant set of jaws Georgiana shared with her brother. Secretly wondering if Mr Darcy would be as fierce in his love as his sister. It would be some fortunate lady he eventually chose as his bride. Someone he had not yet met...

The bath had been drawn, a maid came to fetch her.

“Thank you, Georgiana. You have alleviated some of my guilt and I understand you much better know. I am sorry I treated you so coldly in Gretna Green. I did not know what to believe and not how to act.”

“Coldly? You gave me a thorough tongue-lashing I have yet to recover from! I was hurt, Elizabeth. We were the best of friends, yet you thought so little of me and even less of Captain Wickham Yet, I suppose it is I who should apologies for leaving you at Gretna Green. Mr Wickham was not pleased when I recounted your concerns to him. He thought it a suitable punishment to leave you behind. In my defence, I knew my brother would not abandon you. He is much too decent but we shall leave the rest of our concerns until you have had your bath, Elizabeth. Hurry while the water is still hot, I can see that you are shivering... My maid will be at your disposal and she will find a gown that suits you.”

“Thank you!”

Elizabeth was undressed by Milly, Georgiana’s maid, and sank into the water. The maid washed her hair, refilled the bathtub with a pail of warm water and left her to soak.  
Elizabeth exhaled, ready to forgive herself her folly. Not to forget though but kept in the far recesses of her mind as a lesson learned. It was time to let go of the guilt in a matter that could not be altered.

XxX

Mr Darcy paced back and forth in his chamber, it was ridiculous. Even he himself acknowledged it.   
Fretting about someone insignificant who had no connection to him but she had shivered unstoppable the entire ride home to Netherfield and she been so ill at Pemberley. Mrs Reynolds, not prone towards hysterics, had admittedly feared for her life. The effects of that bout may still be lingering... Her frame felt so small in his arms. It was uncanny how her presence could feel so large yet her shape was so lithe...  
The water from her gown had seeped through his gloves, she must be wet to the skin...  
No, enough! The rain had cleared. He would take Swiftsilver into Meryton and buy some supplies. That should take his mind off unsuitable subjects.

Mr Bingley's stable hand did not lift a brow at his request of saddling Swiftsilver an hour after he had unsaddled him. For that Mr Darcy tossed him a shilling and headed towards the small town. Not unlike Lambton, the village near his home of Pemberley.   
He went to the bookseller first although it was merely a disguise to work up the nerves to go where he had initially intended.   
With a book under his arm as fortification and a pleasant exchange with the bookseller later, he crossed the square to Meryton's seamstress shop. The town’s gentlemen tipped their hat at him but to his surprise, several of them stopped him for a chat. He was not used to being addressed by slight acquaintances but rather politely shunned. The habitants of Meryton had somehow gotten the impression he was approachable all of sudden.   
Sir William headed his way in eager strides, Darcy stifled a sigh. The man was amiable but had a tendency to let his mouth run on.

“Mr Darcy, how fortunate to find you here. Have you heard? It is all over town, Miss Lizzy is missing.”

He must have appeared quizzical because Sir William elaborated, not that the man needed an excuse.

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet has not returned from her usual morning constitutional. Her parents are worried about the encampment so close but I am under the impression that another pressing matter might be foremost in their mind.”

Sir William winked at him like he thought Mr Darcy was in on the secret.  
Had he behaved with so little discretion the previous night to garner expectations? They certainly had not needed much encouragement in Mr Bingley's case. Damage control might be needed.   
He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

“I am certain I do not take your meaning because Miss Elizabeth is currently visiting my sister. I believe they made the arrangement last night at the ball.”

“Oh, that is a relief to hear. Her mother must have risen late as usual and not been informed about her daughter’s prior engagement. She is rather excitable but a dear friend of my wife,” the man added quickly.

Mr Darcy nodded in acquiescence, hoping that would be the end of it, it was not.

“May I applaud you for singling out or dear Miss Lizzy last night? She is not as beautiful as her sister but her heart is pure as gold, Mr Darcy. It must be difficult growing up beside a beauty such as Miss Jane...”

Mr Darcy was appalled, demeaning Miss Elizabeth to a lesser beauty than her sister? There was nothing ordinary about the girl in any respect.   
How shallow to remark upon it. Was this the moral modern society was built upon? Valuing beauty over the mind like his sister choosing good looks and charm over substance. Wickham choosing money over honour. Was he any better, striving for a bride of wealth and connections? Perhaps he should settle for someone who did not bore him to death by insipid conversation...  
He had to rein in his emotions lest it would show on his countenance but he had to give the man a proper set down.

“I have no idea of what you are talking about. Excuse me, I have an errand to run for my sister.”

Giving Sir William a curt bow of the head, he continued to the seamstress's shop. He had no idea if she had what he was looking for but it was his only option in this quaint little town. 

The square was milling with officers. He could hardly find a spot for his horse around the watering hole. He opted to leave him with a young lad who with a little reimbursement promised solemnly to let his horse drink as soon as there was an opening.

As he suspected, the seamstress had a little bit of everything. The shop was owned by a Mr James, the seamstress’s husband, who came running when he spotted Mr Darcy.

“Mr Darcy! Mr James at your service, how may I help you?”

He looked around, utterly embarrassed but he had come this far...  
A lady stood on a podium in the back. Young ladies flitted around her, pinning her hem at the right length. For some reason, he pictured such intimate moments to be held in a room at the back, preferably behind closed doors.   
He had escorted Georgiana a few times to her modiste in town but never had he witnessed such a spectacle.  
Ribbons hang from the ceiling and the walls were covered in drawers marked with things like velvet, muslin, cotton and Irish. Nowhere was there a drawer marked stockings.

“I need a pair of ladies stockings. It is for my sister,” he hastily added as it might not be obvious. He wanted to add additional excuses but clamped his mouth shut lest he reveal too much.

“Certainly, behind my desk here. Does she want white or perhaps these pale pink ones?”

Mr James held up two pairs with very little difference in their colour in Mr Darcy's opinion.

“I am a little at loss here, Mr James. Which one would you recommend as the most common choice?”

“The young ladies often prefer white ones while a more mature or married lady might opt for something of colour.”

“Right, I will have the white one.”

“Only one pair, Mr Darcy? These delicate garments tear easily...”

“Right, I will have three pairs then.”

“Anything else, Mr Darcy?”

“Yes, a shawl. A warm one as the parlour in Netherfield has a draft from the windows.”

“It is an admirable trait that you care so much for your sister's comfort.”

“Yes, well. She is very dear to me.”

Mr James showed him a selection of woollen shawls, he chose a deep red one with mustard yellow flowers and green leaves. It would not suit his fair sister but she was not the recipient he had in mind.

XxX

Mr Darcy knocked on his sister’s door after establishing that she was not downstairs. Georgiana opened up the door to let him in but seeing Miss Elizabeth comfortably seated on Georgiana's settee, he opted not to disturb the ladies. Georgiana needed a friend and Elizabeth had proven to be a staunch protector of those she cared about. If not occasionally misplaced... He was not the one Georgiana had needed protection against but the young Miss seemed to have understood that without too much input from himself.

He handed Georgiana the wrapped package of shawl and stockings whilst his eyes betrayed him, stealing glances at Elizabeth. She looked well, brushing her long hair by the fire. She had not heard the knock and startled when she flipped her hair to the other side and caught a glimpse of him on the threshold. Her feet were bare and she hastily tucked them under her skirt. The gown was one he recognised as Georgiana's. Even when sitting down, he could tell it was a bit longer than needed.

“I am not here to disturb your visit with your friend but I have bought you something. I thought it might be needed.” 

Another stolen glance at Elizabeth, understanding suffused his sister’s countenance. She smiled and expressed her gratitude. Mr Darcy left their company with an incline of his head.

Georgiana ripped the wrapping off the package and three pairs of silk stockings fell out from atop of a beautiful shawl.

“I believe these are meant for you, Elizabeth. He gave them to me but as you can see, the colour is all wrong for me, it would suit you much better. He probably noticed your torn stocking as well. Nothing escapes him, he has an uncanny ability to know what is needed.”

Georgiana handed her the shawl and one of the pair of stockings. Elizabeth blushed bright red at the thought of Mr Darcy noticing her legs. The gown must have travelled upwards when they had ridden in twosome on his horse...

“No, it was a thoughtful gift from a doting brother to his dearest sister. I cannot accept.”

“Nonsense, Elizabeth. You need to borrow stockings regardless and I chose to give you one of my superfluous new pairs. The shawl is an apology gift from me who left you at Gretna Green with nary a thought for anyone else but myself. Please, let me make amends this way.”

“I cannot wear the shawl. What must your brother think of me if I appear before him in his recent gift to his sister?”

“My brother likes you very much, I do not for one minute believe this was intended for me. No, it is yours, Elizabeth, to do as you please.”

Elizabeth held the shawl in her hands, it would do no harm in trying it on. Her hair was still wet and cold.   
The soft wool felt like an embrace. Closing her eyes, she could feel Mr Darcy's warm body behind her on the horse. How appalled he would have been if he knew where her thoughts tended. Fortunately, no one would ever know...

“Are the rest of your party leaving for London soon?”

“I do not believe so, I have heard nothing about it.”

“Oh, your brother mentioned it at the ball. It was possible that they would close up the house and follow Mr Bingley to town...”

“I certainly hope not, I would not enjoy living in a tent.”

“No, neither would I but my mother swears we are to live in the hedgerows which are even worse, I imagine.”

“Why would she say that?”

“Because of the eligible suitor I rejected this morning. My father's estate is entailed away from us poor females. The heir presumptive is Mr Collins who I danced the first set with at the ball. He is your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh's parson until my father perishes and he will inherit. My mother believes he will throw us out of Longbourn the very next minute.   
In reality, there is a dower house for us to live in but our expenses will have to be cut short. Not exactly living in the hedgerows but close enough in my mother's eyes.  
It is why I was out in the rain when your brother happened upon me. I was not on my way to Netherfield but a hunting lodge far into the woods. He deemed me unsuitably dressed for such endeavour and here I am.”

Elizabeth threw out her hands and gave Georgiana an apologetic look.

“I am sorry to intrude upon you, unannounced.”

“Think nothing of it Elizabeth. I am glad you confided in me. I have missed you, Elizabeth. We were such good friends in Ramsgate and had a lot of fun together, did we not? I admit with George away for most of the day and every night, I am a tad bored.”

“You do not find Miss Bingley's company entertaining?” 

Elizabeth sipped her cup of tea to hide her smile.  
Georgiana rolled her eyes.

“I would like for you to stay with me for a few days, Elizabeth. I am in dire need of company.”

“In that case, I need to send a note to my father before he sends out a search party. I really did not think this through...”

Elizabeth sighed, she had hoped that her days of rash decisions were over but it seemed ingrained in her nature. Hopefully, her mother would not descend on Netherfield to haul her back to Longbourn and Mr Collins as soon as she learnt of her whereabouts.


	15. To Strain Gnats and Swallow Camels

Chapter 15 To Strain at Gnats and Swallow Camels 

A rider had been sent to Longbourn, a carpetbag with the necessary garments had returned with a note from her father imploring her to stay at Netherfield for a few days until the ruckus at Longbourn had exhausted itself. It would seem her father supported her decision to spur Mr Collins overtures., making Elizabeth feel excessively stupid to have run away...

Miss Bingley was not pleased when Elizabeth prolonged stay was announced during dinner but did not deny Georgiana’s request to add a guest to their party. She was more concerned about being Georgiana’s accommodating friend than spending a few days in partially disagreeable company. 

Elizabeth felt alleviated through supper. Escaping an unwanted suitor, reconciling with Georgiana and experiencing a close encounter with the man she loved. Although she was savouring the latter for a private moment to relish.  
Mr Darcy was contemplative and silent. Paying him as much attention as she did, albeit clandestinely, she noticed his focus was on Mr Wickham rather than his sister this evening. Miss Bingley kept up her hunt and addressed him persistently, getting monosyllabic answers in return until she uttered something so outrageous that even Darcy reacted. How the conversation had turned to Scotland, she had no idea but she heard Miss Bingley put her foot in her mouth.

“The most scenic view in Scotland is the road to England,” then snickered at her own jest.

Wallowing in her ignorance, the table grew quiet. She obviously did not know that Mr Darcy owned a Scottish estate nor that his sister had married over the anvil in Gretna Green. Miss Bingley had assumed that the wedding had been held in London while she had been up north in Scarborough, visiting relations.

“Have you ever been to Scotland, Miss Bingley?” Mr Wickham inquired.

“No, thank you. I have no need for travelling when London has everything I desire. I will never tire of it.”

Miss Bingley was clueless about how little she had just recommended herself to Mr Darcy.  
To her knowledge, Mr Darcy spent the better part of the year in London, drawing the wrongful conclusion that he must prefer town to all other locations. She lacked the understanding that Mr Darcy was in town because of his obligations, not necessarily by his own inclinations. Captain Wickham knew him better and was not opposed to letting Miss Bingley dig her own grave. He rather thought of it as the evening’s amusement.

“I thought your heart was settled on Derbyshire.”

“Of course, Derbyshire is lovely, so cultivated. Nothing can compare to Pemberley. I wish my brother had found an estate more like Mr Darcy's magnificent home. Are you sure you are not willing to sell, Mr Darcy?”

Mr Darcy glared at her without making a reply. Miss Bingley coloured and touched her amethyst necklace, repositioning it to dip between her cleavage. The lady was relentless in her pursuit if not particularly clever about it.

Captain Wickham was his usual charming self but Elizabeth was sceptical and cautious. During her first thoughts upon introduction to the man, she had been taken in. What followed made her grateful she had not acted upon her inclination. She would not have relished life as Mrs Wickham, following the drum from town to town. She needed the anchorage of a home. It needed not to be grand but a dwelling to call her own. It dawned on her that her ruminations were shallow and superficial. Her heart must not have been touched or she would surely have felt some sentiments towards losing the man himself. She could honestly pronounce there were no regrets.  
Unbeknownst to her, she smiled.

When the meal had been consumed, she opted for a stroll in the garden. Georgiana wanted to refresh herself and Miss Bingley had more ladylike pursuits in mind. Elizabeth ventured out on her own, a moment of solitude to reflect on the happenings of the day was welcome.

An old swing hung from a tree in the back garden. Concealed from the windows were the gentlemen were having their port or so she thought and let her mind wander to the most pleasant ride she had ever experienced.  
Her fear of horses had lessened considerably the moment she felt an arm encompass her waist and a broad chest against her back. Mr Darcy radiated heat, even through his greatcoat. Closing her eyes she let her recollection of the feeling wash over her. It was a dangerous game, the injury to her heart when he left would be profound which was a sobering thought...

“Have I not told you not to come here?”

The voice was near but she could not determine from which direction. Perhaps the hedge behind her?

“It is an emergency. The bank has ordered a foreclosure, I need funds quickly.”

“What do you want from me, Ruth?”

“Surely you can think of something? Georgiana must have some jewellery...”

A scuffle could be heard, twigs broke and the lady yelped. Elizabeth clutched her heart and wondered what she should do? Mrs Young had come to Netherfield and was currently having a liaison with Mr Wickham in the garden. She rose from the swing, intent on escaping before the melee escalated. It would probably be wise to alert Mr Darcy. He would know what to do but she had to remove stealthily lest she was discovered. She was loathed to be caught eavesdropping.

“Was it you who stole Georgiana's necklace in Ramsgate?” Mr Wickham's voice had an accusatory note that belied his involvement in the theft if there had been one.

“Let go of my arm, you can prove nothing.”

“I am sure there is pawnshop between Ramsgate and London with an identical necklace and a description of you as the peddler.”

The lady harrumphed, at loss for words but not spirit.

“I aided you to get in contact with Georgiana, you owe me!”

“I owe you nothing. I asked for none of the services you claim to have rendered.”

“What about my son?”

“You and I both know there is no son, Miss Perranuthnoe died in childbed with her son. The late Mr Darcy thought it important to inform me of her passing. Despite claiming him as my own back then, I was not the father. Another man paid me handsomely for naming him my own and Miss Perranuthnoe was married off. You have no idea what the late Mr Darcy put me through for the perceived misconduct. I had never felt a leather belt to my back before that. My father was a lenient man but not that merciful.”

“The other man, could you not admit it was Mr Darcy? He is tall, dark and handsome as Miss Perranuthnoe described him to me. He called himself Fitzwilliam which is Mr Darcy's Christian name. I was certain Mr Darcy was the father until after I was hired as Georgiana's companion. Imagine my disappointment when it turned out to be difficult to prove...”

“I know. Fitzwilliam is his mother’s family name. There are more relations with Fitzwilliam as their surname.”

“It was not the Colonel, I met him at Ramsgate. He looked nothing like Miss Perranuthnoe’s young beau. He is shorter and has fair hair.”

“There is an elder brother, the Viscount and heir to the earldom. He wanted to avoid the scandal because he was already in his father’s bad books due to his penchant for gambling. The Earl had threatened to revoke his allowance which is why he paid me to take the blame. I can see your mind delighting in the possibilities but I urge you to give them up. No one would believe you. I claimed him as my own and that cannot be undone.”

Elizabeth heard sobbing behind the hedgerow.

“You should sell the boarding house, pay off your debts and go back to your parents.”

The sobbing stopped abruptly, making Elizabeth believe the crying had been a ruse to garner sympathy.

“They live in poverty, for crying out loud.”

Mrs Young could transform rapidly between aggrieved and angry it would seem.

“You should have caught Mr Darcy when you had the chance then. He is the only one I know with a solvent estate.”

“Which says more about you and your friends than the state of gentry's finances.”

“True...”

“You are determined not to help me?”

“I have nothing, Ruth and what I may acquire will go to my wife. You must understand that she is my priority?”

Mr Wickham's patience was running out judging by the exasperation in his voice but Elizabeth had made it almost around the corner when she bumped into something solid. The oomph they both exonerated alerted the opponents of the company. Elizabeth put her finger to her lips and grabbed Mr Darcy by the hand to pull him away.  
He was having none of it and strode in the direction of the adversaries. Elizabeth had no choice but to follow as her hand was still caught in Mr Darcy's.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Mr Darcy's voice boomed when he rounded the hedge. He got no reply so Elizabeth quickly filled in the particulars. Mr Wickham excused himself to tend his wife. Sending a couple of footmen to escort Mrs Young off the premises.

“There was a child,” Elizabeth reminded him gently.

“Right... He would have been thirteen years of age if he had lived. Unfortunately, both mother and child perished. I have investigated Mrs Young claims of having a child but I found no evidence of the child’s existence. I did, however, discover that Mrs Young was once a friend of a certain Miss Perranuthnoe which once claimed me as the father of her child. A futile attempt to extort money but it turned out the child was none other than Mr Wickham's.”

“It was not. I accidentally overheard Captain Wickham admit he was paid to claim the child by Colonel Fitzwilliam’s brother, the Viscount.”

“I always knew there was something murky about the whole ordeal. That certainly explains a lot of my misgivings at the time.” 

“You are the most discerning man I know, Mr Darcy.” 

Elizabeth coloured as soon as the words were spoken but once said they could not be taken back.

“It feels like I have strained the gnats and swallowed a camel,” Mr Darcy muttered.

“How does one swallow a camel?” Elizabeth inquired.

“With the fur, not against it...”


	16. Matters of the Heart

Chapter 16 Matters of the Heart

He locked eyes with Elizabeth, reading the undeniable adoration in her eyes. She looked upon him as he was some hero from a romance novel, making him want to be whatever she believed him to be.  
Yet, he was far from a hero. Just a man of flesh and blood, fortunate enough to dwell in a woman’s heart.  
It was his turn to colour, infinitely pleased she could not read his mind and the presumptuous thoughts he harboured. 

He stole another glance in her direction. She pressed her lips together, not in discontent but to withhold mirth that was threatening to bubble over from within. He had made her laugh, a stimulating sentiment that made him grin. Looking straight forward at absolutely nothing, with Elizabeth at his side...  
A dainty hand touched his forearm.

“You should talk to your sister or rather listen.”

“You are rather forward, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Yes, it is one of my lots in life to converse too easily.”

“Lots, what other failures do you perceive within yourself?”

“Well, where to begin... Too quick to judge, too prejudiced in some matters and too proud in others. I remember you confessing one night that you did not consider pride a fault when it was held under good regulation, Mr Darcy. I have not that skill and are entirely too apt at thinking well of my discernment. Particularly my none existing ability to study character, I believe that to be an occupation I should not pursue.”

“People are complex, even Mr Bingley has facets not easily discerned by a new acquaintance.”

“He has not as intricate a character as you though. Why did you not call the magistrate on Mrs Young? An interrogation might have made her own to stealing Georgiana's necklace at Ramsgate.”

“I already knew it was she. I found the necklace at a pawnbroker and the description of the lady selling the piece fit Mrs Young. I do not like to air my affairs in public, a trial would have brought unwanted attention and the monies she earned are long gone. There would be nothing gained by putting the lady in jail. The situation for the prisoners at News Gate are horrible, disease spread easily in the cramped conditions. Besides, the necklace worth would make the theft a hanging offence. I prefer not to have the death of a gently bred lady on my conscience. I have my mother’s necklace safely ensconced at Pemberley which is most important but I have taken steps to ensure Mrs Young will never work as a companion to another gently bred girl. I have notified the employment office in London about here proclivities, they have spread the word to other offices. She will not find employment in any respectable home...”

“You always manage to surprise me, Mr Darcy. There is always something new to discover.”

“You have figured me out?”

“Not at all...”

What a strange thing to say when he had shared more of himself with the lady than anyone he had ever met. She put him at ease, lowered his guard until he revealed his innermost thoughts. What light did it put him in? She had seen him at his weakest moments, enraged, his usually well-regulated self in turmoil. Yet she did not seem afraid of him.

“I believe you know more than you ought.  
I will take your advice though and find my sister. A conversation is long overdue.”

XxX

Georgiana was not in the parlour when he returned. He went to her chamber and knocked but the maid opened and told him she had not come to her room. A sense of dread filled him. Could she have left with Wickham?  
Long strides took him to the library on the floor below. There was a faint light streaming from beneath the door. Perhaps this was where she was hiding?

He strode into the room and found Georgiana sitting opposite of George Wickham, holding his hands. They jumped apart when he entered. Had they been kissing? He so did not want to go down that path and reined in his wayward thoughts. He halted awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“I would like a private conversation with my sister.”

Georgiana locked eyes with Wickham as she was drawing his support against her own brother. Ridiculous...  
Captain Wickham caressed her cheek and whispered something he could not catch but he rose from his seat.

“I must get back to the camp, goodnight.”

With a parting glance at Georgiana, he left and Darcy felt his shoulders relax. He seated himself in the chair Wickham had just left and studied his sister. She met his gaze unflinchingly. When had she become so bold?

“I am weary, brother.”

Was she now going to admit to her grave error in judgement? Was that why Elizabeth had wanted him to talk to his sister?

“I am aggrieved you do not condone my choice of husband but I am terrified you would do something to take him away from me.”

“What could I do?”

“I do not know... Find a small unpaid debt and send him to the gaol or have him killed, I do not know.”

“Have I ever proved myself as a violent or an unjust man, Georgiana?”

“No, but you are used to having your own way.”

True, he managed an estate, he was the owner after all and expected people to do his bidding. It was natural and just.

“I love him brother, with every fibre of my being.”

“But does he love you?”

“Does it matter? I love enough for both of us.”

Of course, it mattered. He would not marry anyone who did not hold him in the deepest affection, would he? Had the parameter even entered his mind when he searched the ballrooms and dining rooms of town for an appropriate bride? He had to admit that it had not... A flaw he intended to rectify immediately. He wanted someone to look at him with adoration and love. He wanted to enlist those feelings that bound you to a person’s heart, mind and body. Someone he felt at ease with, longed for and desired...

Darcy shuddered as a ghost had passed through his very soul. The hair on his neck stood on end, meaning something significant was hovering just outside his grasp.  
He needed to focus on his sister though. Find the depth of her emotion and make sure she was not living under any misconception.

“He may have chosen you for monetary gain.”

“It is our lot in life, brother. We have wealth and desirable connections. If I married a baronet, a Viscount or even a Lord, my dowry would be my main attraction. George has not once urged me to beg you for my dowry. Yet, I am willing to do so. Not to buy my husband's affections but for my own comforts. I do not relish living in a tent when the Bingley's relocate to town.  
It is my inheritance, I am certain father would not have begrudged me what is rightfully mine, despite my marriage to a stewards son. Father loved George and treated him as his own son. I cannot imagine he would have minded. You were always jealous of him, I urge you to put these feelings aside and release my dowry.”

When had his sister become so selfish? Could he claim to be better himself? The thought brought no relief. It was her inheritance, he had no business keeping it from her, not really. His parents or rather his father had indulged both himself and his sister too much. Giving them good principles but left them to follow them in pride and conceit.  
He wanted more in his own life than what his sister asked for. He could not imagine himself to be content without love and certainly not a one-sided one. There was more to consider than wealth and connections. A partner you could bear spending your days and nights with. Someone who could hold their own through a conversation on matters beyond ribbons and lace. Someone who made him feel comfortable in her presence, someone who welcomed him, day and night...

“I can see you are considering it.”

His mind was as far from Georgiana's assumption as they could possibly be. Envisioning the latter thought, he had pictured a lady he knew, someone close, beautiful, vivacious but unsuitable. He shook off the thought and concentrated on the matter at hand.   
Georgiana was probably right, his father might not have objected but there was no way of knowing for certain. He had preferred George's company over his own but he had entrusted Pemberley to himself. The wise choice, he was trustworthy and quite good at managing it if he could say so himself. The coffers of Pemberley had never been fuller, he could withstand the loss of thirty thousand pounds. It could be replenished with a bride with a significant dowry or not...

“I am with child brother... You would not want your nephew or niece to grow up in a tent, would you?”

He had lost, it was no way around it. He envisioned a dirt little boy, sticking his head out of a camp tent and caved.

“I will release your dowry under certain conditions.”

“All of it,” his sister sounded gleeful but he let it pass.

“Yes, all of it.”

“What is your conditions?”

“You must buy an estate that will give you something to live on. There should be an entail to prohibit any debts being accumulated on the estate.  
The estate should be in the price range of twenty thousand, leaving some funds in the four percentage for dowries for any daughters of yours and an additional income for you. If Wickham wants to pursue a military career, I will buy him a Colonel's commission. It will yield a manageable income in addition to your savings and the estate. Lastly, I want access to you and your offspring.”

“Do you have an estate in mind or location?”

“No!”

“Oh good, I would rather not be in Derbyshire.”

“Why not?”

“I cannot stand the climate and the long travel to town. I would love to live by the sea. Perhaps Ramsgate or Brighton...”

“I will send a note to Wickham in the morning to negotiate the particulars and then I will go to town to have my attorney draw up the papers.”

“Thank you, brother!”

Georgiana flung herself around his neck. She was not lithe but rather tall and womanly, he could withstand the impact on his person but his heart was bruised. His uncle and aunt would rage against his decision, he would be the laughing stock of the ton. He had no choice...

He stepped away from his beaming sister. She had an additional glow he surmised to be the result of her condition. His little sister would be a mother at sixteen while he, at eight and twenty, was far from begetting the heir he needed. He felt old until he remembered the perils of childbirth his sister was facing. His heart lurched painfully in his chest, she would need every comfort and costly medical attention.

“I will retire now, Georgiana. We will speak more in the morning...”

“Goodnight, Fitzwilliam.”

He bowed curtly and left the music room. He trudged up the stairs with a heavy heart and continued towards the guest wing of Netherfield house where he encountered Miss Elizabeth.  
She took one look at him and her hands flew to her heart, sympathy suffused her countenance, interspersed with something else.   
Was he that transparent?  
He should feel fortunate that it was not pity he perceived though...  
He bowed and continued to his room. Elizabeth was still standing in the hallway when he closed the door. Her graceful neck bent towards the floor.

He rang for his valet and retired. Utterly spent he fell asleep to project some very vivid dreams of a future he could not have foreseen.

XxX

Captain Wickham called right after breakfast. To make sure there would be no misunderstandings, he asked his sister to join them.  
His terms were agreed upon with little comments from the newlyweds. The Wickhams knew they had not much choice but to agree to his terms. As soon as they were done and his notes taken, he ordered his horse saddled and valise packed.  
It would take a few days to get this affair settled. Perhaps he could meet up with Bingley and have him stay with him. There was no need for them to be alone in separate houses on the dreary evenings.

XxX

Georgiana was in an excellent mood, quite contrary to her brother's disposition the previous evening. The reason would soon be revealed.

“My brother has left for town. He is releasing my dowry, we can buy an estate!”

Georgiana's elevated mood did not rub off on Elizabeth. If Mr Darcy had left to release Georgiana's dowry, he would have no reason to come back. She had known the separation would come but not so soon...

“I am delighted for you, Georgiana.”

“So am I! We are to buy an estate. I am so excited. I suggested a place near the sea, like Ramsgate or Brighton. Captain Wickham agreed because my brother is buying him a colonel's commission. He is hoping to get a position training the recruits at Brighton.”

“That was generous of him.”

“Yes, I knew he would come around, eventually. He does listen to reason.”

“You are very fortunate in your choice of a brother. Makes me wish I had one for myself.”

“But you have so many sisters, I wish I had a sister but Captain Wickham was an only child and I know not when Fitzwilliam will marry. He is so fastidious I despair of him ever finding someone good enough.”

“Yes, I imagine that would be difficult. He is the very best of men, deserving the very best of females to be his partner.”

“You like my brother, Elizabeth?”

“Naturally, I greatly esteem him and respect him.”

That was as much as Elizabeth was ready to reveal to anyone but herself.

“That was a formal reply.”

“Well, our relationship is of the formal kind. I own no particular intimacy with your brother apart from the fact that he is my friend's brother.”

Elizabeth wanted to disabuse Georgiana from any matchmaking schemes. She could not bear the thought of the rejection should he come back to Netherfield and be imposed upon by his sister.

Their calm was soon interrupted by an onslaught of Bennets, coming to escort Elizabeth home. Why they were all needed to accomplish the feet was lost on Georgiana but she stood her ground, claiming they could not possibly deprive her of Elizabeth’s company now that her brother had left her all alone. Miss Bingley took umbrage by that pronouncement but Georgiana paid her no mind. Miss Bingley's company was tiresome while Elizabeth was fun and that was the end of the story in her mind.

Elizabeth was in no immediate danger from Mr Collins though, as he had removed to Lucas Lodge.

XxX

“Miss Lucas to see you, Miss Elizabeth.”

The Netherfield butler announced.

“Oh, send her in.”

“She inquired if you might be up to a stroll in the garden, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Yes, that sounds lovely. Tell her I will be with her promptly.”

With Mr Darcy in town, she saw no reason not to donned the shawl Georgiana had practically forced upon her. She should have known that Charlotte would question her about it, knowing well all of Elizabeth’s garments. It was soon forgotten when Charlotte revealed why she had come.  
She wanted to inform Elizabeth in person that she was engaged to be married to none other than Mr Collins.  
Elizabeth could not conceal her disgust and Charlotte marched off the premises with her head held high and angry red blotches on her neck.

XxX

A week passed with little to occupy her but dinners with Georgiana, Miss Bingley and the Hursts. Captain Wickham joined them when he was at liberty to do so but that meant that Georgiana was occupied elsewhere. It was time to return home. Mr Collins had left for Kent and posed no threat after he had proposed and been accepted by Charlotte.   
Her mother would not be pleased but it mattered little. She was by no means her mother’s favourite daughter. She would rant and rave until the disappointment had run its course. Hopefully, Mr Bingley would return to Jane and her mother would forget she had a second daughter.

Georgiana was not thrilled but neither did she protest overly much. Elizabeth longed for home, a place that did not hold any memories of Mr Darcy.   
She had known the parting would be difficult but she had not been prepared for the hollowness it left inside.

Mr Bennet only quirked a brow when Elizabeth entered Longbourn a few hours later. Mrs Bennet acted exactly as predicted. With loud screeching, wailing admonishments over the prosperous situation that Elizabeth had spurned.

“I can see that Elizabeth is adequately remorseful,” Mr Bennet finally added to the ruckus. He had misunderstood Elizabeth’s discomposed spirits for regret. “I believe she has taken your point, Mrs Bennet. Let us have some peace before dinner.”

Elizabeth looked gratefully at her father although she had born the reprimands with equilibrium. 

Jane cornered her next.

“Anything new from Netherfield? Has Mr Bingley returned?”

“No! No, he has not.”

“He missed our dinner engagement on Thursday.”

“I am afraid that I have no news. Miss Bingley did not mention when he would return only that he was much caught up with important business.”

Miss Bingley had not mentioned when Mr Bingley was expected to return but she had on numerous occasions tried to convince Georgiana to return to town with Miss Bingley. Georgiana had been adamant that she could not leave her dear Captain Wickham and that had been the end of it.  
They might sojourn to town when the papers were ready to sign but other than that, she was happy to stay in Meryton, close to her beloved husband.

Longbourn was rarely a quiet place but with militia officers in town, it was a bustle of guests at tea and supper. Hardly an evening passed without one officer or another to entertain.  
Elizabeth longed for the quietude of Pemberley not solely because of the owner but the many places to hide when you wanted solitude. At Longbourn there were no such nooks that no one else had not found.

XxX

Two gruelling days had passed at home when her father called her to his study. The darkly painted room with floor to ceiling bookshelves was a sanctuary were no disturbance was allowed. Elizabeth hastened to do her father’s bidding. Mayhap he had an inclination to play chess, anything that could take her mind off Mr Darcy would be welcomed.

Her father was waving a letter in the air when Elizabeth entered the study.

“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me exceedingly. I thought you should know as it involves yourself and one of your sisters. I did not know you had so lofty expectations, Lizzy but no matter. It does explain to your reluctance towards marrying Mr Collins but I had thought you were more sensible than this.”

“I do not take your meaning, Sir.”

“Do you not? Have you not relentlessly pursued Mr Darcy until he had to escape to town to avoid being caught in the parson’s trap?”

“I have not!”

“Well, I did not believe so but I had to ask after receiving this ridiculous letter. Mr Collins writes and let me quote: I urge you to send for your daughter forthwith. She has been trespassing upon my noble patronesses relations for too long. What could be her meaning but to ingrate herself in the good graces of a young and impressionable girl in order to gain the notice of her wealthy brother? Her malicious scheme will be thwarted as he is engaged to his cousin, Miss Anne the Bourgh. The wedding is expected to be held next summer. Cousin Elizabeth is making a complete fool of herself, behaving in this manner. It will not be tolerated by the Darcys nearest relations. It has come to my notice that your second eldest daughter has taken upon herself to give unsolicited advice to Mr Darcy. Her recommendations have been unwise to the determent of his estate and his relations. I urge you to forbid any more contact between your daughter and the illustrious Mr Darcy and his sister. I have eyes and ears in Meryton. That, I believe... If you do not comply, Lady Catherine will be most seriously displeased. Rein in your daughter, Mr Bennet. It is long overdue.” End quote. What do you say, Lizzy? Is it not diverting? What kind of persuasive abilities is he envisioning you possessing? He must think you are positively occult and have waved your wand over a grown man and a grown married woman.”

“Yes, I suppose...”

“You are not getting missish, Lizzy? You do not seem diverted.”

“I am excessively diverted.” Elizabeth tried to chuckle but the strained effort died in her throat.

“What should I answer him?”

“Nothing, it is too ridiculous to deign with an answer.”

“Ah, you are a lady of my choice, Lizzy. I shall not answer, perhaps he will send me another missive, equally entertaining...”

XxX

Elizabeth slept poorly and woke at dawn. If Lady Catherine had warned Mr Darcy, chances were that he would not venture back to Netherfield and if he had to, he would probably make it a hasty visit.  
She bit her lip wondering, if it had been wise to go back to Longbourn when staying at Netherfield might have afforded her another short glimpse of Mr Darcy.

It was of no use, sleep was impossible and she might wake Jane with her tossing and turning. She dressed as quietly as possible and slipped down the stairs to the back door.  
Her old coat hung conveniently for her picking, close to the door. It was cold outside at the beginning of December, she should have donned gloves and a bonnet but no one ventured around in the back garden at this time of year. The blooms were all withered and stood as brown ghosts from the summer. A summer spent in pleasurable pursuits.  
She could even add the memories from Ramsgate. How Georgiana's marriage would unfold, no one knew but her future looked promising.  
Soon she would have a home of her own and a colonel for husband. Mr Darcy would see to that.

Elizabeth stumbled on a root, she must mind where she is walking...  
Without noticing it, she had walked beyond the garden and into the field that the cows used to grass in the summer. There were plenty of droppings... She veered towards the fence and climbed over it to the path that led to some of Longbourn's tenant farms. If it was in the direction of Netherfield as well, she paid it no mind until a horse and rider appeared in her vision. Flying across the field at breakneck speed was Mr Darcy. Elizabeth pulled back and watched from under the shadows of the trees.   
She had gotten her wish, a last glimpse and a distant goodbye.  
He took a sharp turn, Elizabeth held her breath lest the horse would slide and fall, taking his rider with him but the horse proved surefooted.  
Could he have spotted her? The horse galloped in her direction. She quenched the notion to flee. If she was caught ogling him from afar, running would not redeem her.  
He rode up to her and drew his horse to an abrupt halt. Was he angry with her? He looked contemplative albeit somewhat dishevelled.   
He had foregone his cravat, riding in his shirt with no waistcoat. His greatcoat billowing behind him as he dismounted his horse and took a step towards her.

At first, he said nothing, just regarded her seriously. She met his gaze with honest contemplation.  
Despite his vigorous ride across the field, without his gentleman armour, he looked vulnerable.  
Swiftsilver stomped his hooves and Darcy let him lose to grass on the dried leftovers from summer.  
It left his hands with nothing to do and they hung down his sides.

“Is something amiss?” Elizabeth found her voice first.

“Yes!”

She waited for elaboration but it was not forthcoming.

“Did you accomplish what you set out to do in town?”

“Yes, Georgiana will be appeased, I believe.”

He stood regarding the slip of a girl that invaded his dreams and much of his awaken moments. Ordinary looking except for the intriguing dark eyes, soft hair and all too kissable lips if his dreams were anything to go by. How had she managed to creep under his skin and pervade his heart when he wanted nothing to do with her?  
His thoughts went to their conversations. He was comfortable in her presence, that must be it, yet he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and taste those lush lips.  
She was patiently regarding him with openness and a tad of mischief sparkling in her eyes.

“I see, London has robbed you of your speech, how cruel. I dearly like to speak...”

Elizabeth wry wit was putting him at ease as usual. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch. Could he settle for companionship, attraction and a soul binding connexion that could not be denied?  
He took a step closer. Her eyes darkened and the mischief was replaced by something else. A deep emotion he had recognized in his own reflection lately. She needed not speak a word, he knew she loved him as he loved her. Simple, yet so complicated.  
His relations had descended upon him as soon as the rumours had reached them that he was in town. He had not put up the knocker, someone in his household most likely held them abreast with his whereabouts. An unsettling thought he would have to address.  
Lord Matlock had been most concerned about Georgiana. To make him understand that the battle was lost had been a loud and condescending conversation.  
Claiming his prospects utterly ruined by a determined sister. The thought had not been as appalling as it would have been a year prior. The excellent match he once believed was his due, he had all but forsaken for a country maiden of questionable judgement and somewhat of a temper.

He smiled unbeknownst to himself but it was soon replaced by a frown as he remembered another of his maternal relations who had descended upon him in town, throwing ludicrous accusations.  
Lady Catherine had been adamant that a Miss Bennet of Hertfordshire was trying to entrap him. She had seen to it that she was removed from his friend’s estate. The thought had had the opposite effect of what his aunt had intended. The dread of not having Elizabeth had been profound and enlightening.   
Lady Catherine had demanded he should not return to Netherfield but hide at Pemberley for a season or two until the debacle with his sister was replaced by another juicy scandal. The sister he must no longer acknowledge to wed her daughter next summer or possibly the next after that, if the rumours had not been quenched.  
He felt utter alleviation at rejecting her suit. It may have been his mother’s fondest wish for him to wed her sister's daughter while he lay in his cradle but there was no chance she would have asked him to renounce Georgiana permanently. The sought after unification of the two estates must wait for another generation. He should have addressed it sooner, proof he was by no means flawless himself.

He had waited too long to speak, the light was fading from her eyes and she stepped away from him.

“No!”

He reached for her hand to halt her escape. His mind was made up by her eyes tearing up, he could not stand it.

“You have invaded my thoughts and dreams, embedded yourself in my heart, soothed my soul, enlightened my mind. Please, do me the honour of accepting my hand?”

A sharp intake of breath and those beautiful glittering eyes turned at him, her lips parted in astonishment.

“I will.”

The burden fell from his shoulders, refreshing breaths filled his lungs and happiness suffused his soul. He grinned and closed the gap between them. Finally he could touch those lips that had enticed him from the moment they puckered in vexation at a London dinner party. He let his thumb smooth over the plumpness. He gazed into the soulful eyes as he lowered his head in abandonment. Sweet torture it was, to claim those lips yet release them the next moment. 

“I left Bingley in the thicket by the moat, he is waiting for the house to wake up, anxious he had have been away too long and ruined his chances with your sister.”

“I doubt it. Jane has been on edge, eagerly awaiting his return. Will you come with him?”

“No, I am not appropriately attired. I will come back later to talk to your father if that is acceptable to you.”

She nodded briefly before she let her hand graze his cheek.

“You are cold.”

“I cannot feel it.”

She smiled radiantly, warming him further.


	17. Forgiven

Chapter 17 Forgiven

Longbourn was in an uproar. Mr Bingley had arrived and Jane was not even dressed. She had their maid, mother and three sisters assisting her to get ready.

Calm as a millpond she entered the parlour where Mr Bingley was waiting. Smiling serenely at the sight of him. He was gobsmacked and speechless for a moment but their ease soon returned. Chatting happily amongst themselves.   
Mr Bingley was appalled that the Bennets had not been notified that he would be detained from attending their dinner party. The missive he had sent his sister must have gone astray. He was forgiven, of course, a new invitation for the morrow was promptly delivered and accepted. The invitation was extended to include his friend and the entire Netherfield party.

XxX

Longbourn’s dining room had been decked in finery as the large party of friends dined. Mr Wickham had been invited as well, he was Georgiana's husband and now, as of two days, a colonel in his Majesty’s militia.

The two unpronounced lovers had not been seated together as nobody knew of their engagement. Furtive glances were exchanged that no one seemed to notice which led to an audible gasp from several of the revellers when at the end of the meal, Mr Darcy rose and requested a private audience with Mr Bennet.  
They were not gone long before Mrs Hill came to fetch Elizabeth.   
Her stomach churned as she approached her father’s study. He could occasionally act capricious, hopefully, this was not a moment for sport.

Her father had turned out to be too stunned to make any jests. He had some doubt about Elizabeth’s acceptance which she promptly alleviated. 

In joined forces, they entered the parlour where both ladies and gentlemen had adjourned. Mrs Bennet had been too distracted to remember the separation of the sexes.

“I have an announcement to make,” Mr Bennet's voice rose over the din. “The engagement between my daughter and Mr Darcy, may they have a long and prosperous life together.”

“Which daughter?” Mrs Bennet was struggling to get to grips with her husband’s proclamation.

“The one standing next to her fiancé, Elizabeth, if I can recall her name correctly.”

“Oh, you enjoy vexing me but how? When? I had no notions they courted and much less liked each other.”

“Neither had I, Mrs Bennet. I applaud them, making this decision with so little inconvenience to myself. I urge the rest of my daughters to act likewise.”

“Mr Bennet!” His wife was too distraught to follow up on the two admonishing words.

Congratulations were exchanged of which some were sincere and some were begrudgingly given.

Mr Bingley however, regained his speech and congratulated the happy couple. In his next breath, he inquired after a private interview with Miss Bennet. He was afforded five minutes of privacy with Miss Bennet of which he needed two to propose and be accepted.

A second pronouncement was had that evening. Leaving poor Mrs Bennet out of sorts and utterly speechless, Miss Bingley sputtering and Mrs Hurst rolling her eyes. The Wickhams was the only ones who had no misgivings in any of the evening’s betrothals. Georgiana was not even surprised by her brother's choice of bride, having perceived his penchant for the petit brunette's company since they were at Gretna Green. He even valued her opinion which was not like him at all.

Miss Bingley sat stewing in a corner, wondering where her life had taken such an unpleasant turn. Miss Darcy had married, ruining her chances for the desired marriage to her brother whilst Mr Darcy had slipped out of her fingers, right underneath her nose. It was all too vexing...

“Pray, Georgiana, when are you planning to leave Netherfield?”

It was a blow beneath the belt, even for Miss Bingley who knew full well that Mrs Wickham had nowhere to go but a tent on Flynn’s western field but she was no longer of any use to Miss Bingley.

“I... I was planning to leave in a fortnight, Miss Bingley. Captain Wickham is relocating to Brighton where he has been offered a new position as a Colonel. We have yet to find any accommodation that suits us. I will remove to The White Lion Inn if you need the chamber I am occupying.”

“There is no need for that, Mrs Wickham. Now that we are to be sisters, I would like to get to know you even better. You should come and stay at Longbourn.”

“I would love that, Miss Elizabeth,” Georgiana beamed.

Mr Darcy looked a little alarmed and much cross with Miss Bingley. He had no wish to relocate to the Inn neither did he relish Captain Wickham in the presence of his fiancée when he was not there himself. Captain Wickham was too charming by far... He looked upon Elizabeth with much admiration though, turning an unpleasant event to a perk. The quick turn of her mind never ceased to amaze him.

XxX

A double wedding was planned four weeks hence, at the beginning of January. Ample time to plan a wedding in Mr Bennet's eyes and about as much of the frivolity of Mrs Bennet he could tolerate. The sooner the newlyweds could be sent off, the sooner he would have some peace...

Georgiana moved to Longbourn to aid the Bennet ladies with their preparation. Mr Darcy stayed at Netherfield as Mr Bingley would not hear of him moving out. His sister was reprimanded for her uncharitable treatment of Georgiana who would become his sister through marriage when he and Mr Darcy married the delectable Bennet sisters.

Meanwhile, Mr Darcy was busy with finding an estate for his sister and her husband in an easy riding distance from Brighton. In the middle of the wedding planning, the new Colonel Wickham moved to Brighton to aid his search and train his new regiment. He would return for the wedding and the new Mr and Mrs Darcy would go to Brighton for their honeymoon. There was just too much to accomplish in a too short timeframe. Mr Darcy had apologised profusely for this inconvenience to Elizabeth who had brushed him off. The invitation to the renowned twelfth night ball at the Royal Albion Hotel was too much of an incentive to be cross.  
It mattered little to her where she was as long as she was with Mr Darcy. She had survived driving a donkey cart and walking for miles in the rain when Mr Darcy was at her side. Little could deter her after that experience.

Mr Darcy had rented a terrace house. It would accommodate the newlyweds and Wickhams until an estate had been purchased. A strange solution but it could not be helped. Mr Darcy would not allow his sister to live in a tent if the location was Meryton or Brighton...

XxX

With Georgiana at Longbourn and Mrs Bennet in a constant state of fluttering nerves, the betrothed couple was afforded little in terms of private interludes. Instead, they were pranced around the neighbourhood on countless dinners, teas and card parties. Their wedding could not come soon enough for Elizabeth who worried what the recluse and taciturn Mr Darcy might suffer under the constant attention. He remained steady at her side, showing little of his thoughts though.

Elizabeth would have been surprised if she had been privy to Mr Darcy's thoughts. He did not relish in the entertainment provided by the Meryton community but he was not displeased. Elizabeth fended off barbs and steered clear of the worst of the tabbies. He found that by keeping close to his Elizabeth, not much was demanded of him in turns of insipid conversation. He longed to have her alone but the time spent at large parties was much more tolerable with Elizabeth on his arm.

XxX

Happy was the day where Mrs Bennet got rid of her most deserving daughters. Jane would travel far away to Italy while Elizabeth was off to Brighton. The wedding breakfast was a huge success while the parting was bittersweet.  
Mr Darcy had gifted her second eldest with a new carriage, that would at least give her something to talk about for the coming days...

The Bingleys left for London, they had been offered and had accepted the use of Darcy House until their ship would sail for Italy. The Darcys left for Brighton and estate hunting. As soon as that deed was accomplished, they would venture north to Pemberley. Lady Matlock worked the ton while they were away, to ease their path when they returned to London for the season. Mr Wickham was now a colonel and when the estate had been bought, he could count himself a gentleman which is what Lady Matlock chose to share with her friends in town. Elizabeth was a gentleman's daughter. Unknown and insignificant but of an ancient line that garnered respect regardless.

The Darcys had not been long at Brighton before Mr Darcy wholeheartedly regretted the scheme. His bride insisted on joining his sister, breaking their fast when he would gladly have foregone the entire meal and feasted on his delectable bride instead.  
The previous night had been a revelation, for both of them and proved just how well they were suited, in every way that mattered...

Two days hence, they had accepted invitations to General Whythenshawe's twelfth night ball at the Royal Albion Hotel. Another decision he had made and regretted after one night spent with his wife. It had been impossible to deduce how loathed he would be to share her after they had married. He had even felt some concern towards spending too much time alone with her, on the grounds that they did not know each other that well. There might be awkward moments if left to their own devices for too long. How utterly wrong and misjudged his musings had been.  
He longed for Pemberley and solitude, Elizabeth was included in solitude, Georgiana and Wickham most certainly was not...

Brighton had not been much of a choice since he was looking for a property to purchase of which they could all agree on but he had not known that the Prince Regent himself was building a new development. The Royal Pavilion was being raised, close to the terrace, he had rented. The work had begun with all the noise, hustle and bustle that commenced. He cursed Dr Russell who had made the waters of Brighton so popular a century past. Recommending sea-bathing for every malady known to man. One might believe that they were out of the season in January but with several indoors bathing facilities, the season no longer mattered.  
Elizabeth had deserved so much more than to be awakened at dawn by hammering and chiselling. It had led to a pleasurable pursuit but yet...  
His eager and passionate bride pervaded his mind, chasing the misgivings away. He would just have to be patient, twelve hours until he could retire with his bride. Ten if he did not mind being rude...

XxX

Elizabeth descended the stairs in a red velvet ball gown he had not seen before. Her dark colouring and brilliant complexion made her one of a few ladies that could wear the dark shade without looking washed out. An image of Miss Bingley in a similar colour entered his mind unbidden. Perhaps it was his unconscious self that chose this moment to alert him of his fortunate selection of a bride.  
Elizabeth radiated happiness and a little sauciness, now that she was all too aware of the effect she had on him. His inability to speak did not offend her, it made her tad haughty, fitting of a Darcy.  
The rubies Georgiana had selected from the jewellery he had brought with him, fit her gown and the hollow beneath her neck perfectly.  
The long curl rested enticingly on her...  
He closed his eyes to rein in his thoughts which proved not helpful at all, quite the opposite.  
A tinkling laugh made him reopen his eyes, take his wife's hand and kiss it reverently. She blushed becomingly and complimented his strapping appearance accompanied by a bold look upon his person that did nothing to alleviate his predicament.   
He tucked her hand around his arm, strode out the door and hurried them into the carriage. The faster he could get into the dim lighting of their conveyance the better. He almost forgot their outerwear. Fortunately, Elizabeth had kept her wherewithal when he had not.  
Georgiana and Wickham joined them shortly after. A detail he had forgotten in his haste secure a moment of solitude with his bride. Wickham smirked like he had read his thoughts. An impudent man soon forgot when Elizabeth turned slightly towards him and rested her knee against his thigh.

XxX

“Colonel Wickham, how nice to see you.”

“Mrs Young.”

“Why so formal? You used to call me Ruth...”

“That was a long time ago, Mrs Young.”

“Oh my, we once shared much more than an informal address.”

“As I said, it was a long time ago, Mrs Young. We have both met our matches since our youthful indiscretions.”

“Yes, I suppose... Pray, tell me, I been wondering why the Viscount would choose you to take the blame for Miss Perranuthnoe’s child?”

“The Viscount tried to blame Darcy, forgetting he was away on a rowing competition between Eton and Westminster. He went directly from Westminster to his yearly visit with an aunt in Kent. He was not in London at the time of the event, so to speak. He became desperate and the only plausible scheme he could come up with to rectify it was if I had pretended to be Darcy to elevate myself in yours and Miss Perranuthnoe’s eyes.”

“I guess they bought it?”

“You know the rest...”

“I never did thank you.”

“Why would you thank me? Miss Perranuthnoe was sent home and married off to some poor sod who had no idea he being foisted with another man's child. You were not much better off as I have lately been made to understand. I hardly see any reason for gratitude.”

“No, that is not why I feel some gratitude towards you. Did you know that Mr Darcy has blacklisted me at the servants’ registry office?”

“No, I was no aware.”

“It was looking bleak, my late husband was not as wealthy as he led me to believe before we married but his legacy has turned out rather well for me lately and it was you that put the notion in my mind.”

“What notion?”

“You urged me to sell the boarding house and move back to my parents, remember?”

“Yes, did you get a good price on the property?”

“Oh no, I did not sell it. The thought of moving back home was utterly distasteful to me so I opted to make some much-needed alterations to my business. It has been a great success, so much that I have paid off most of my debts and still have a little to spend.”

“I am glad it has all worked out for you but I hardly believe you have any reason to be grateful to me.”

“Never the less, I feel it...”

XxX

Elizabeth was hot and bothered. The throng had made air the stale and she had not seen her husband in half an hour. When the set ended, he had not been in his usual place. Elizabeth wandered the outskirts of the dancefloor but he was nowhere to be seen. It was nice to be engaged for every set for a change but she wished it had been before her marriage or restrained to her husband. Ridiculous rules that one was not supposed to dance with your own husband. They had eschewed the rule for the first set and the supper set but a third would be an absolute scandal. She would not have minded though. The next was a waltz which she had never danced in public. It was unimaginable with anyone else than her husband due to the intimate nature of the dance. 

He was not in the card room nor by the refreshment table. Perhaps he had ventured out onto the balcony to have some air. The inside of the hotel was definitely stifling.  
Elizabeth fetched her shawl to stave off the brisk January air and braved the out of doors.  
There was no one else out there but voices drifted up from the garden. She went to the railing and what she witnessed had her rooted to the spot for several long moments before she found her ability to move and hastened inside, searching even more frantically for her husband. He came striding towards her a moment later.

“Elizabeth, you look flushed. Are you well? Perhaps I should take you home, you are cold and clammy to the touch.”

Mr Darcy was not overly concerned, merely eager for any excuse that may convince his bride to retire early.

“Yes, I think it might be best.”

Her lack of resistance towards cutting short their evening made him doubt his initial diagnosis.

“Let me call the carriage and find our outerwear.”

“Yes, thank you. I hope you are not too disappointed?”

“Not at all, I assure you.”

The carriage was readied quickly and the Darcys departed.  
Mr Darcy became more anxious by the minute. Elizabeth sat wringing her hands, biting her lip, refusing to even look at him. Could someone have accosted her while he was refreshing himself?   
The ten minute drive felt like an eternity before the horses finally came to a halt outside their shared terrace.  
He alighted before the step was down and handed Elizabeth out as soon as it was down.

“Come, let us go to our private sitting room.”

He wanted neutral ground when he was informed about what had happened. He dismissed the servants that came rushing to tend them and quickly informed them that they would need no further services that night. He uttered not a word until they were out of earshot of the staff, neither did Elizabeth. This must be grave indeed...

“What happened?” Mr Darcy bore down on her as soon as the door had closed behind them.

“I was hot and could not find you anywhere when the waltz commenced so I ventured out on the balcony overlooking the garden.”

Mr Darcy dreaded what would come next. Anything could happen on a darkened balcony. He ran his hand down his face and swore they would never attend another ball.

“It was refreshingly frigid and empty of occupants but I heard voices from the garden. Shamefully curious as I am, I walked to the railing to see who it was. The conversation should have alerted me that something was amiss...”

Mr Darcy peeped through his fingers at his bride. She had just remarked that the balcony was empty, would he be fortunate enough that it had remained so?

“It was Colonel Wickham and Mrs Young. They were in some kind of argument, not loud or shouting but clearly disagreeing.”

“I did not know Mrs Young was here.”

“Neither did I but she was in dire straits the last time we saw her when she was trying to get funds from Colonel Wickham. She obviously does not know him very well as monies seem to burn in his pocket but I did learn how you got those fabulous muscles on your upper arms.”

Mr Darcy dropped his hand from his countenance and stared at her quizzically.

“Do you still row, Mr Darcy?”

“On occasions where the ladies want to view Pemberley from the lake but not competitively no.”

“Oh, I definitely want to see the lake view when we get home.”

She smiled with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“It was a row competition between Eton and Winchester who saved you from being held responsible for Miss Perranuthnoe’s child. The Viscount did not know you were not in London when he decided to frame you for his misconduct. Served him right when he did not own to his faults. He thought the easy way out was for Wickham to claim he had pretended to be you of which he was correct. Well, the end of the story was that Mrs Young did not need any money this time. She had come with a lame thank you to Colonel Wickham for suggesting she should sell the boarding house, pay off her debts and move back home to her parent’s house. The thought had so distasteful to her that she had decided to make some improvements to her business.”

“Sounds like she has finally developed some sense...”

“I rather believe she has not... She has turned a respectable but not so successful business into a lucrative brothel. She came to offer Colonel Wickham the use of her services and spread the word of her new venture amongst his friends... The Colonel declined and tried to send her off, telling her not darken his door again but then he caressed her cheek and she rose on her toes and kissed him. It was a short chaste kiss but it was on the lips, not his hand or even his cheek but the mouth!”

“Mr Young is a beautiful woman, used to getting her way by her looks alone. It must be difficult when beauty is all you have and it turns out, it is not enough.”

“You think she is beautiful?”

“Everyone with eyes can tell she is beautiful, Elizabeth.”

It rankled her that he thought someone else was beautiful yet he never told her that she was beautiful. He obviously had the ability to both gauge and express beauty...

“I can see my confession has upset you, Elizabeth. There really is no reason for you to feel threatened.”

“Is it not? You have not once expressed such sentiments about me.”

She wanted it unsaid the moment the words left her lips. She sounded petty and insecure, yet what worried her the most was what did he really think of her appearance? Was he proud to have her on his arm or was he embarrassed she was not prettier?”

“You are very pretty, Elizabeth.”

That word, pretty, it was what you called a sweet girl that was not beautiful to comfort her.

“It was not your beauty that drew me to you, Elizabeth. I have encountered many a beautiful lady in my adult years but not once have beauty drawn me in, stirred my soul nor engaged my heart. It was knowing what lies within that made you the most handsome woman of my acquaintance.”

He wheeled himself in, quite nicely. She could settle for the most handsome woman of his acquaintance and rewarded him with a lingering kiss.

“Do you believe she was trying to entice him, by... Offering favours?”

“Most likely, did he not send her off?”

“He did, sort of. When she did not move, he left but they have a history together. By what I overheard, I believe they might even have been lovers one time.”

“Then he acted honourably towards my sister of which I am glad. This is probably not the first nor the last proposition he has received. It is how you deal with it that matter.”

Elizabeth would not like to contemplate the offers her husband was likely to get but she could not let the matter of Colonel Wickham go just yet.

“You seem to think a kiss is nothing at all but I disagree. It is a violation of their marriage vows. Would you not be disturbed should I kiss the Colonel or any other man for that manner?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing, I am merely trying to make you understand the gravity of his actions. I would never forgive you if you kissed another woman.”

“But I have.”

Elizabeth felt the impact of his words constrict her breathing but she had to ask. He had a penchant for speaking without thinking but he was always honest.

“After we were married?”

“No of course not, it was a long time ago.”

“As much as I do not relish the thought of you in the arms of another woman, it is entirely different to kiss her after we have married.”

“What if I kiss our daughter if we should be so lucky to have one?”

“I meant a beautiful woman.”

“Our daughters will be beautiful...”

“I meant a beautiful unrelated woman.”

“So, I am allowed to kiss your sister?”

Jane, always the beauty of the family, every man fell at her feet, Elizabeth thought while jealousy raged within her breast, almost missing the smirk on her husband's countenance. Teasing man, she had to get accustomed to his wry sense of humour or they would row needlessly.  
He did not deserve a kiss though so she tickled him until he begged for mercy.

“I am glad, Elizabeth, that Wickham did nothing but remove himself. Had he berated her and made a spectacle, it could have drawn attention from the other guests and we would have a much more serious scandal on our hands. Women like Mrs Young may be beautiful but she is mean, selfish and manipulative. Had the other guests noticed she might have made a kiss into so much more. Her beauty has done her little favours. She owns a rundown bawdy house on Edward Street while you have a wealthy, bewitched husband who will provide for your children with the education fit for a queen.”

“Queen? Are you planning on having only daughters, Mr Darcy? Let me think... Yes, I believe I should give you five daughters. They will all live at home because you, my dear, will never leave them out of your sight. Just like our dear Majesty the King. He has quite a few adult daughters living at home, I believe.”

“Are you comparing me to our mad King?”

“Perhaps...”

Elizabeth shrieked as her feet left the floor. She was tossed over his shoulder as he ran up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to their suite of rooms in the west wing.

“What are you doing? Put me down, you mad man!”

“No! I am of a mind to make these baby girls forthwith. I am mad...   
Remind me later to build an impenetrable tower at Pemberley for all our female offspring.”

Elizabeth laughed until she was tossed onto the master's bed. Her mouth was soon otherwise engaged though. Ardently kissing her nutty husband.


	18. Love's Beauty

Chapter 18 Loves Beauty 

The beauty of love makes matters that previously had seemed important, essential even, become inconsequential. The years of striving towards perfecting his estate management, guard his position in high society and keep all his relations satisfied, dwindled into nothingness. Pemberley's well-oiled machinery did not crumble if the master left a letter unanswered for a few days.   
The lack of formal invitations was a relief, he no longer felt the need to please everyone. It was sufficient to please those who were his closest relations of which Lady Catherine would take umbrage not being considered a part of. The aforementioned Lady had made her displeasure known in a letter answering his wedding invitation. Sufficient to say, the Lady made no appearance, neither did her brother and head of the Fitzwilliam family, Lord Matlock. If the Earl thought his absence as a punishment, he was in for a huge disappointment. Colonel Fitzwilliam was a close friend as well as family and the only relation he cared to keep in his inner circle. Georgiana was essential, her choice of a husband did not change that fact.  
Lady Matlock, on the other hand, had proved to be a valuable asset towards the ton. She realized that once the marriage vows had been utter, no man could pull them apart. She had worked her magic upon the upper éclat. The Darcys presence in town had been tolerated but not sought...

XxX

One might wonder if years later, Mrs Wickham regretted her hasty anvil wedding. The surprising thing is, that she did not. The Colonel had managed his affairs well, made their estate prosper and built himself a good reputation as a trainer in the militia.  
Was he faithful?   
I cannot say for certain but I do not believe he was, neither did Mrs Wickham. The wife always knows these things.  
His experiences in the war had thought Colonel Wickham valuable lessons but it did not change his essentials. A man who felt perhaps a little more pride than his actions warranted.   
There were a few times when he spent the night elsewhere, yet he treated his wife well. If Mrs Wickham had been offered a choice between a possibly adulterous husband or no husband at all, she would still have chosen the former Mr Wickham. So deep was her love for this man that even though he occasionally hurt her, she forgave him.  
Eventually, the Wickhams were blessed with a mischievous boy and two sweet girls to shower with love and affection. Georgiana felt that overall she had no cause to repine.

XxX

The Darcys had a more conventional marriage were neither husband nor wife strayed from the bosom of the large family they would create. Eight children would bless the Darcys. Elizabeth did deliver the promised five daughters interspersed with three sons.   
With two such strong-headed individuals there were bound to be the occasional quarrel, usually managed with calmness from the master and with excessive exercise from the mistress. Elizabeth walked the beautiful grounds of Pemberley until her vexation was spent and the matter could be dealt with. The master knew her well and bid his time until his wife was in a reasonable state of mind.   
It did not bother him much, their quarrels. He knew they would reconcile, wiser and more closely knit than before their dispute. He realized that a marriage without any disagreements meant that at least one party was not expressing their opinion.

As their brood grew, less and less time was spent in town to the advantage of beautiful Pemberley until the older children became of marriageable age. The ton seemed to have forgotten the mésalliance Mr Darcy had entered a couple of decades ago. Their wealthy heir and his substantially dowered sisters were surrounded by some mystery in addition to an excellent reputation which made them sought after in the marriage mart. 

XxX

The Bingley's lived a happy life as mediators between Louisa and Caroline. They had a fall out when Caroline married above Louisa, a baronet with a modest estate.  
The Bingley's visited Pemberley the next summer and fell in love with the tranquillity, far from quarrelling sisters and an interfering mother.  
The lease on Netherfield was given up and an estate, twenty miles from Pemberley, was bought. Mr Bingley became the gentleman his father had always dreamt he would make...

XxX

Sometimes, one should follow what the heart whisper is right despite the rationale mind screaming it is wrong. The reward of life with Elizabeth at his side made Mr Darcy suffer not a moment of regret. He would have been content if had only been the two them but the additions to the nursery brought another nuance to his life. Happiness surpassing everything he had hitherto experienced and a new purpose to estate management. He wanted his sons and daughters to have choices. He saved and invested wisely, working closely with Mr Gardiner who had a knack for these things. Together they built a business empire that would secure the future his to spares and dowries for his daughters.

Mr Darcy rarely suffered a dull moment with so many children and a somewhat temperamental wife, although he once suffered a long separation. Self-inflicted as it was in his case. Elizabeth went to Longbourn when Lydia married a Captain in the militia. Mr Bingley had given up the lease on Netherfield. The close and cramped condition of Longbourn had not enticed the master of Pemberley to stir from the comforts of his home. Of course, the official excuse was estate matters.   
His wife was not fooled.   
Stubbornly, she left for the south with their year old son, a maid, the nanny and four footmen for protection. Mr Darcy stewed at home for a fortnight before he caved to his proclivities and rode at breakneck speed from Pemberley to Longbourn. The reunion had been a mixture of sweet torture and passion performed in a pretty-ish sort of wilderness behind Longbourn's garden. The conciliation resulted in their first daughter nine months later and a solemn promise to never be parted again. A commitment who would last a lifetime...

The End


End file.
